"The Kingdom was lost, overthrown by the revolution that flickered like a flame, fueled by a spark, and unleashed untold terrors like a wildfire.

     Phoenix fell; it was no match for those corrupted creatures as they breached the imposing walls with wave after wave of their brethren. They had slain every man, woman and child within, showing no mercy in their killing. King Ovaridan fought to protect his kin, but old age slowed his movements, dulled his reflexes, and it wasn't long before his body struck the ground.

     His wife retrieved his dagger, and begged her children to run and flee as quickly as their legs could carry them. She fought valiantly, her opposition distracted by her beauty, her red hair glistening like a subtle flame, distilling the myth that she was the descendant of the mythical creature who christened the very kingdom that was collapsing to dust. Many of them fell before she was slain, but she had allowed her children priceless time to escape towards the river at the base of the former fortress.  

     Prince Ozwalt, Princess Isabella, and Prince Terru were left with little choice but to watch in disbelief as their illustrious home - the base of their memories and hopes and fears and future - toppled into the very mountain that allowed it to stand tall and proud.  

      The Kingdom was lost, indeed...

      -"The World of Phoenix & its Origins" - Chapter 1-

-Dylan-

     Was I the perfect student? No, and it was something that didn't bother me in the slightest.  I spent most of my time inside a bookstore, buried under the pages of a book. I preferred to be immersed in a new world than to copy and paste facts and languages into my head.

     Most of my classmates were in the same boat as I was, but there were a few exceptions; the prodigies who knew exactly what they wanted, and knew precisely what they needed to do to get it. I’d long given up on pretending to know where my future laid – honestly, I would be lucky if I made it to college at all with the way my grades were.  

     Considering what had happened, why bother wasting my time with things like that...

     It was getting pretty dark outside, and that was around the time my parents would start calling me, demanding to know when I would make it home in case I was attacked or something. They always insisted that this would happen if I wasn't careful enough. It bothered me in the way it sounded like a when and not an if. The place was getting crowded, umbrellas and a color of coats everywhere, which meant it was raining outside. I moaned, realizing that by the time I actually made it home I was going to be soaked from head to toe, and I wasn't really in the mood to wring an entire ocean out of my clothes.  

     I returned the book I to its allocated shelf, thanked the store owner on my way out and mentally prepared myself for the cold wintry air of Manhattan. Forbidden Planet was quite a trek from my house, so I was going to have to grab a bus. I fumbled inside my pockets, trying to find any spare change. Instead, all I grabbed was air.

     Great.

     I joined the chorus of pedestrians as they rushed from place to place, daydreaming about the novel I had just read.  In contrast to the wonderful magical lands I enjoyed, New York just seemed a little...bland. It was nothing but different shades of grey, people kept to themselves and only spoke when spoken to. We wore the same clothes, ate the same food, talked about the same topics and visited the same places. I passed a bar on my way home, and I heard the words LA Galaxy from at least five different people by the time I moved from one side of its door to the other. If you weren't a sports-obsessed teenage businessman-in-the-making, it seemed this city wasn't for you.  

     It certainly wasn't for me.  

     I lived pretty close to Times Square, 301 West to be exact - and it was important to remember the street you lived on, because the entire city was just a big, giant maze. Our apartment offered a pretty generous view of the city landscape, and I knew that I had lived in one of the privileged portions of the city. Some of my friends didn't have what I had, and neither did a lot of people.  

     Be grateful for everything you have, because you never know when it'll disappear, I believe were the exact words my mother taught me, more or less. They took on a whole different meaning recently...

     It was a solid forty-five minutes before I made it back to my house, and it seemed to get colder and more miserable with every passing step. I only had my bagpack - and the books inside - to my name, and carrying something that heavy over your head really made your damn arms tired. It really was only a matter of time before I just gave up and accepted that my hair was going to resemble a well-used mop.  When I finally made it inside, I rushed inside the main lobby and rubbed my hands together in a desperate attempt to warm them up. As expected, I was carrying a few extra pounds of rainfall by the time I threw my bag on the floor. A quick inspection confirmed my worst fears - my textbooks were damp, and I didn't want to be the person to tell my parents that they needed to be replaced. I zipped my bag up again, intent to letting them rest on a radiator by the time I made it inside my bedroom. Elevator doors parted soundlessly on the opposite end of the lobby, and I quickly took my place inside it, spotting a familiar face clamber inside just before they slammed shut again.  

     "Terrible weather we're having!" Ms. McFletchy sighed in disbelief, as if she had never seen a big bad storm before. She was approaching her fifties, but she had done everything she could to delay the signs of aging; her face was basically frozen, and it looked like a bee had stung her lips. I simply nodded in response, McFletchy was used to my silence.  "How was school?"

     "Handed an assignment, usual stuff." I answered monotonously. “Somethin’ about our favorite form of media.” I kept it formal and disinterested with McFletchy as the elevator reached our identical destination - the thirty-first floor.  

     "Well, isn't that great! What novels are you going to write about, then?" she responded, and I had to smile in reply. She was more aware of my love of fantasy than most. "At least you can use your obsession to your advantage this time around."

     Ah yes, obsession. It was a double-edged sword, and I heard the negativity ring crystal clear. McFletchy was more understanding than most, but even she told me to focus on school more than on my novels. I usually responded by telling her that I was a perfectly mediocre student, which was a lot better than somebody who preferred the drink or smoke the night away, or maybe even worse. I knew a pair who fit in that category. McFletchy was used to those kinds of statements, as well.  

     The elevator doors opened like they always did, and the same hallway stretched itself before us. McFletchy rushed towards her apartment door before I had even managed to take a step, wishing me a wonderful evening before she disappeared inside her own plush apartment. The rain really did no favors, my hair soaked and hanging over my eyes. Sighing, I opened my apartment door to the sight of our kitchen, and my laborious father who resided there. He was busy preparing our dinner; an enormous chicken roasted slowly inside the oven, while spices and flavorings covered the table. I could smell the garlic from the corridor, but it was the best possible thing.  

     "Evening, how was school? Got much homework tonight?"He asked, preoccupied as he rushed from one section of the kitchen to the other in an effort to keep everything on track. I took advantage of his distraction to move to my bedroom, responding with just the word fine. I took my soiled notebooks from their damp resting place and placed them delicately on my radiator in a last-ditch attempt that dry them out. I changed my clothes - the first replacements for each found in my messy wardrobe - and I dried my hair with a towel before I even vaguely looked like myself again. My chef father was just about done running around the place, which meant that we could walk around the kitchen again and it was no longer a restricted area. I liked it when I wasn't ushered out of our own living room.  

     "Same old. Gregory's still a pain though.” I moaned. “I have an essay to finish for Thursday, might as well start it now so it will be finished." He liked hearing things like that.

     "We're having Josephine over this evening, around 7." That explained his mission inside the kitchen. It also explained the overuse of garlic; the woman practically inhaled anything with garlic on it. Josephine was okay - as far as relatives go - but she was extremely picky when it came to any and every aspect of pretty much anything.

     "I'll be in my room if you want me." I had to begin that essay anyway, anything to prevent me from sitting down with the adults. I didn't get that much of an answer in response, but that was OK. He was in the zone and I didn't really want to disturb him.  

     A quick glance at my textbooks - they were drying out, though the pages were beginning to curl, which was an acceptable trade-off - and I collapsed on my bed and reached for my writing pad. Now that I was inside from the rain it didn't really bother me all that much, and the sound was a suitable backdrop as I began writing about the necessity of fantasy. I listed the many examples that would reinforce that theory; Peter Jackson and James Cameron as examples for the genre in films, with Lord of The Rings and Avatar as their crowning achievements, while Christopher Paolini and George R.R Martin were my literacy favorites, with the Eragon and Game of Thrones series used as examples. The essay practically wrote itself, one of the very few moments I actually enjoyed working on homework. I lost myself to different worlds, focused on Mordor for the moment,  and imagined the existence of hobbits and how much more entertaining they would be compared to the average person.  

     I lost all sense of time before I heard plates, the sign that my old man had finished preparing dinner, busy setting the table. Mom was nowhere to be seen. She was normally due home hours ago, but she was an architect; and that meant she confined herself to her work for hours on end. A project must be due soon, she usually stayed in her office overnight when she was about to give a presentation.

     The smell of food made my mouth water, delighted when my dinner was already ready and waiting for me. I was just about to take a bite when I heard a knock on our door. Our guest had arrived.  

     "Come in!" My father called, and she allowed herself inside, smiling when she took in our humble abode. Josephine wore an oversized peacoat, her umbrella already stowed away and dripping from the rain outside. I offered to take her coat, she handed it to me without so much as a glance in my direction.  

     Her opinion of me never changed.  

     We sat at the kitchen table, and the grown-ups got to talking about their lives in the long span of time they had gone without seeing each other; Josephine bragged about her magazine company, the clothes she bought, the money she earned. It was always the same with her, and I grew bored immediately. Thankfully neither of them paid any real attention towards me, so I finished my food in peace and announced that I had yet more homework to attend to. Josephine didn't seem bothered by my intended absence, which worked pretty well for the both of us. She preferred Edward, my brother, studying abroad with a coveted scholarship. Compared to him, I was simply the deluded dreamer who believes everything will work out okay.  

     She said that to my face, once upon a time.  

     Dad didn't seem to mind my absence and I returned to my assignment, continuing to make a case for the fantasy genre at large. Lost in boredom, the words were quickly replaced with sketches, several drawings of elven creatures and centaurs coming to life before my very eyes. I was getting the hang at sketching, still getting the knack of proportions, though nowhere near as good as...  

     I stopped that thought before it went any further.

     I heard them outside, getting drunk on expensive wine and laughing about things that seemed so trivial to me. They mentioned my mom, hoping to sell an important scheme to an important client over the next important couple of days, before they returned to how successful they collectively were. I couldn't tell precisely how long they spoke with each other, but I was too busy distracting myself from everything else to pay that much attention. The rain pattered my window at that stage, and by then my eyes were getting pretty heavy. I was about to message my friends, but I found myself falling under, leaving New York behind...

*

     I remembered the very first dream I had; it was hard to forget, because I always ended up in the same place. the cloudless night above me was as familiar as it was back home, and the pine trees lost the menace they once held when I saw them as a child. Back then, I was afraid, lost in the middle of nowhere. Every night I dreamed, the forest grew more and more familiar, until I was certain that I was safe. My fingers gripped at grass and dirt, and the air was always cold and crisp, numbing my face slightly. Sometimes I just stayed at that very spot for the evening, stared at the moon that moved impossibly fast, and allowed my mind to drift along with it. Other times I stood on my own two feet and walked for a while, though I never moved beyond the confines of that forest.  

     I was aware that it was just a dream, but there was a certain freedom in walking around without the pavements and the buildings and people I was just too used to.   

     Soft light peered through the branches; little nightlights in the sky that lived inside the leaves. They danced around in every single one of my dreams, and I remembered cupping one in my hands when I felt particularly brave. Once I did, they instantly turned numb, followed by a sense of panic... before I ended up in my bedroom again. Ever since that night, I was content with just observing, watching them move and glow without a care in the world.  

     For tonight’s dream, I perched myself on one peculiar-looking tree stump, what was left of its roots twisted in an almost deliberate manner. I watched both those same lights twinkle in formation, and the moon beyond it.

     I was safe in my little corner of the universe.  

     A sound - subtle but instantly recognizable - forced me to sit upright, while the glowing pin-pricks of light vanished inside their trees in a heartbeat. I attempted to pin-point where it came from, but no luck. I didn't know how long I sat there, with only the moon to accompany me.  

     This was my dream, the very same one I've had for as long as I could remember. I knew this section of the enchanted forest like the back of my hand. Nothing else was here. Perhaps a falling branch, or an animal I hadn’t encountered yet...

     I stood up - my heart in my throat - and moved silently towards the general direction of that sound. I didn’t know why I was afraid – this was still just a dream, after all – but those lights seemed to follow me once they moved out of their hiding place, just as curious as I was. They grew in number with every fearful step I took – illuminating the path in front of me. Before long, they soared into the sky, staying perfectly still.

     It was because of them that I noticed the girl staring right back at me, just as surprised and perplexed as I was.

 

2: Chapter Two

-Sylvia-

     My eyes were shut tighter than a portcullis. The sounds of arguing showed no signs of yielding. I had been instructed to meditate by the fire of my mentor's home.  How was I to do so, if he and his granddaughter refused to bless me with the silence I required?
With a sigh, my eyes peeked open. There was no chance I would be able to ground myself with the madness of their squabbling. 
The fire crackled, licking away the cold air around me. If anything it gave me something to focus on besides their shouting.

     I really have had enough of this...

     "Why can you not be happy for me? I have only pursued my dreams, just as you always told me to!"

     "Aye, and I meant it! Had I realized you would have joined a merry band of brigands, I would have told you otherwise!"

     Their little bout had seemed all too familiar to me.

     Months ago ( or perhaps even a year ) to that day, I had been something like a statue. Stagnant, being at one with the world but never a part of it. The lands in which I had grown were small, but beautiful. There hadn't been many to populate the village of my birth, that was too meager to be worthy of any real note. It hadn't even found a place on the map of Rongholdst, blessed little place it was. 
From what I could recount, it had been my mother and father, and my second cousins that lived two slopes down from my own home. From there, it had been mostly occupied by the herds of sheep we tended to, as well as a small plot of land used for growing crops. The season I had left, it had been home to cucumbers. There were three other families, that lived beside us. One I had never really gotten along with, and never will (for I remember their son had once broken the only doll I had at the time). The other family had kept to themselves for the most part, often sharing their crops with us when they grew too many, as we would do the same with them. The final family were a bit more well endowed than the rest of us. Only choosing to stay during the summer seasons, as they had more land located closer to the capital.

     Which, I had naturally always envied. 

     Yes, my life had consisted of little more than sheep, and family. It is little wonder why I had always yearned for more. It was a hunger inside me, an eagerness for something different. Not necessarily restricted to gold and titles (though those are always nice to have), it was for something unknown to the world. Perhaps something little to none have ever done. And so, every night I would wish upon a star, hoping for the world to send me an adventure.

     One night, to my great surprise, my wish was answered. It came lacking subtleness, or perhaps it was my own ambitious mind grasping at air for a miracle. Yet, something did happen. When the sky became restless, it had begun to rain, and the winds roared with a zealousness I had not seen before. A cry could just barely be heard in the distant grassy dunes. We rarely had need to travel there, only on the first of every month would it be traversed. For it was near those dunes where the main roads to the capital, and every month traders would pass to sell us various luxuries.
It had been my father and I who had been securing the herd, making sure they wouldn't run off during the night, full of anxieties due to the frenzied weather.
We shared a look, a bemused expression riddled his usually jovial face. It seemed he was as used to the situation as I, which was naught at all. More curious than he, I sprang to see who had been calling. It was a possibility it could have been bandits, this was true. It is hard to discern a situation like that however, especially if one is driven half mad to the point of being lethargic. 
My father had screamed after me, telling me to get inside. All the over-protective father type lines that one could think of, he had said. That hadn't  deterred me in the slightest, and so on I ran, certain he would catch me soon. 

     When I had arrived to the road side, my lungs had burned. I had underestimated the incline of the hills, and even my own state of physicality. It had been dark, and not much could be made out. But the sounds of pleading could be heard, they had sounded much closer than before. It hadn't taken much to find broken down cart of the trader, who had somehow been pinned between the muddied path and his own cart, filled with various wares. He had such a look of distress, I had to force myself not to chuckle at the sight of it. He was a man unaccustomed to that certain trade route, that much was clear. In his mind, I could only imagine what dangerous creatures could have potentially been living nearby, readying themselves to feast upon him. 
Unfortunately there weren't any. No goblins, nor trolls. Not even pixies had fancied living nearby, that was how undesirably stodgy my home had been.

     It wasn't terribly long until he had taken note of me. 

     "Please! Please help me!" He begged. I looked at him as though he had sprouted another head, and folded my arms to my chest. I hadn't realized how cold it had become.

     "You think I'll be able to pull that cart off, do you?" He ceased his squirming, allowing himself a better view of me. It was as though he had just realized how lanky I truly was. 

     Not soon after, my father had come, saving the merchant the suffering, and me the judgmental gaze. I had hoped to avoid any manual labor, unfortunately, I had been ordered by my father to help him prop the cart off of the merchant. It had taken multiple attempts (sometimes the cart would slip from our hold, and crush the man all over again! I was certain he would wake with new bruises), but soon enough, he had been freed. 

     He thanked us both profusely, to the point where it got irritating. He grabbed the most valuable of his wares, before we took him back to our home to rest. His thankfulness had earned us some grapes and cheese, which I helped myself to without reservation. My mother had borrowed some salves from my cousins, and was quick to tend to him.
He served as a great source of entertainment for a good amount of time. Telling us of his adventures through the bad-lands, where the most terrifying of creatures could be found. He had spoken how he had once almost gotten his head chomped off by a giant with a simple mind, who had mistaken him as a wild mushroom. I could see how that was, his hair had been cut in such a way, it had make him appear so! 
He spoke of how he had never seen, but heard the night elves sing into long hours of the night as he drifted off to sleep, and how he had outran a harpy, eager to feed him to her young. He was such a funny man! Even though his stories had been filled with dark things, he had told it in a way that had me spitting out my food. My father had taken a shining to the man as well, and it hadn't taken much coaxing for him to break out the ale.

     If we had lived in the city, my mother would have treated me like a delicate flower, and sent me off to my room. She wouldn't have wanted me to witness their drunken brutish behavior, and perhaps that was one blessing counted to living in the middle of nowhere. 
My mother had joined in the merriment, laughing and drinking at their side. She had the habit of pinching my full cheeks, and my father would ruffle the black curly hair I had inherited from him.
One by one, I watched as they could no longer keep their eyes open. By that time, the house had reeked like a brewery, so much so I had to open the shutters of our tiny window. My nose had stung from the smell, as I tried to clear away the mugs they had laying about. 

     "You have this look about you girl, like you're itchin' for a story." The merchant hiccuped, as he laid on the floor. I could only imagine how bad his head was spinning, we country folk had some mighty ale. Not many could handle it.
 
     "Might do." I replied with a shrug, keeping busy by cleaning up their mess. 

     "You know, I heard of someone who might be able to help you scratch that-" he hiccuped again, "itch."

     That had caught my attention. I always wondered what it was about ale, that could make a man wiser than he truly was. Perhaps it was not wisdom they portrayed, perhaps they simply became unreserved. I couldn't tell you, ale never really tickled my fancy. Adventure had, and that was what I had sought to get drunk off of.
He had spoken of a man, old and decrepit. Yet, he still had an air of power to him, something more to offer. He lived in a forest, not inherited by men, but territorial satyrs and pixies. They were not known for being keen on sharing with our kind, but for some reason the old man had free reign of the woods. He lived alone, and rumor had it, he had been searching for someone to pass his wisdom to. 

     By the time he had finished speaking of the old man, I had to constantly slap him, just to keep him awake. I had to know where he could be found. It was my wish being answered, knocking on my door, telling me my time had come. And I was no fool to waste such an opportunity. 
With a note left on the table, saying a fond farewell to my parents, and a note for the merchant -speaking of how I would pay him back for the items I had borrowed from his cart, I was off to find the old man.

     "Band of brigands? You do not even realize just how much the Order does to protect people!" Medea yelled, balling her fists. Her golden hair pulled back tightly by a leather band. I sighed as I was brought out of my musings, it was time to leave the hut. 
Gathering my things as silently as I could, I made my way to the shabby door, made of branches from the trees, held together by vines.

     "Sylvia! It is far too late to go out. You know them Pixies'll curse ya' if you so much as step on the wrong flower."

     I only quickened my pace, ignoring his warnings. If only the old man knew how many times I had already been cursed. I slightly wondered if that was why I had gained a bit of girth around my hips. It was no matter, by then other creatures had gotten used to me strutting about as if I was one of them. There curses had become empty by then as well, and I half expected that they had even secretly grown fond of me.

     I took in the view of the sky, gazing at the twinkling light of the stars through the canopies. The air was warm and balmy, sweetened by the scent of the ripened elder berries in the bushes nearby. It wasn't often the pixies had shown themselves to me, but it was common to hear them having their little gatherings. Pixie music was the sweetest kind, and would oft times help lull me into meditation. That night however, was that start of something the kingdom of Rongholdst could not foresee. An ancient power beckoning the world into chaos.

     Though, at the time, it was unknown. Especially to me. 

     The only thing I knew was that a large amount of magical energy had hooked into me, reeling me in like a fish on the line of a rod. And I could do nothing but follow, relishing and fearing the great power it exerted. It had led me to a great meadow, one that was ill advised to tread upon, without the permission of the satyr king. And so, I had respected the wishes of woods inhabitants (which was a rare thing) and stood only by the tree line, peering into the open field. 

The oddest thing had occurred then, I had seen the form of one of my kind, though only a shadow then. Bright lights obscured my vision, and in an instant they had taken flight to sit amongst the stars. And then I saw it - saw him.

3: Chapter Three

     "Time had passed, and Phoenix was soon removed from the minds of those who survived. Many were murdered, more still were scattered throughout the four corners of the realm. The royal heirs of the King and Queen grew older, though they had not forgotten that vicious night. The conquerors of their former home were clumsy in their rule, and civil wars erupted throughout the province.

     Prince Ozwalt grew weary of moving from place to place, without the benefit of a permanent roof over their heads. His siblings relied on him throughout those years, and with no future ahead of him the rightful Prince soon grew irritable. When the wars had died down, no clan or creature could lay claim to the prize they had been fighting for, and the kingdom soon morphed into a collection of races and creatures, each with an unspoken agreement not to trespass on hostile lands."

-"The World of Phoenix & its Origins" - Chapter 2-

-Dylan-

     A lot happened in the blink of an eye.

     One moment, I stared at the girl; her mouth open slightly as soon as she noticed me, absolutely bewildered. The next, my dream turned to black, followed quickly by a snap of light.   

     It took me a few seconds to realize that it was the lightning outside my window that caused it, and the reason why I found myself back inside my room. My heart pounded in my chest and I was covered in sweat, my hands holding onto my sheets for dear life.  

     It was surprise; nothing but pure, unfiltered surprise. Her face was etched into my mind.

     Dylan. It was a dream. Breathe. It was all a dream. It might have been slightly different to the constant one I was used to, but a dream nonetheless. I told myself that I must have seen the girl from somewhere - I read somewhere that the brain wasn't able to conjur appearances out of nowhere, and that she must have been a stranger I walked past at some point - but somehow that excuse never really stuck. I reached for my phone, but then thought against messaging my friend Jacob. It was pretty late in the evening, and the guy was pretty fond of his sleep. With no real alternative, all that was left to do was to turn around and try to get some sleep.

     I soon realized that was impossible, since her face was the first thing I imagined whenever I closed my eyes.

     It still poured out there. It was a wonder I managed to get any sleep at all on account of the damn rain hitting the window. Thunder grumbled outside, quite a while after the initial lightning, which meant that it was pretty far away... for the moment.   

     It took another thirty minutes of trying to sleep – and failing - before I ultimately sat up, peeled the sheets off of me and walked into the kitchen. Those sorts of insomniac moments happened from time to time, usually cured with some food. One of the positive points of having a cook for a father was the huge amount of stuff kept in the fridge at all times, so I went to fetch my phone and my headphones while my hands grabbed whatever they could reach. Before long I had some spaghetti boiling in a pan, and some leftovers from dinner ready to be heated from the microwave. While I waited, I tried thinking of the dream again, and what seemed to be different this time around - apart from the obvious. It was just as dark and just as cold as it normally was, and those dancing lights more or less kept to themselves.   

     No, she was the only thing that changed, and it was a really big and impossible change.   

     The spaghetti was ready, so I let it simmer as the rest of my midnight snack turned slowly inside the microwave. Once that was ready and waiting on a plate, I carried it with me towards the couch, curling myself in place with the food placed delicately on my lap. It took a few moments before the remote was found, but to be honest it was only turned on so I could distract myself for a minute.   

     It also kept me from hearing the damn thunder outside. It was getting annoying at that point.   

     My phone read one-thirty, which was just absolutely perfect. I wanted to eat my food and watch my show and try and get some amount of rest before school in the morning... but there was no getting around the image of that girl in my head. Every time she popped up, I just shook my head and focused on the re-runs on the screen. Unfortunately, there was only so much a couple of 70's cops could do to distract me, so I switched it off and instead opened the curtains to see just how miserable it was out there. It was nothing but street lights and rain out there, and the odd lightning strike far off into the distance. I kept watching it while I finished what was left of my food, and I wasn't sure how long it took before I finally managed to sleep again. I was just glad I had...  

*  

     I had money for fare this time, and I was sure to spend it and move off to school without getting soaked.   

     It rained just as badly as it had during the night, but I was all wrapped up in my favorite yellow coat, my Mom's umbrella in my hands. I couldn't find an actual seat in the bus, so I was forced to stand in my clumpy gear as we trod through the streets. It was the same sight as usual; the same buildings and the same lack of color. I managed to write the rest of my essay just before I took off, but there was really no hope of it getting an A. Even my most prized work got a B at the very most. We took a pretty sharp right-hand turn, and I was too busy thinking about my fragile academic future to realize that I wasn't really grabbing onto the railing as tightly as I should have. I was flung to the other side of the bus, smack in the middle of a pretty tall guy who could easily pick me up and fling me out of this moving set of wheels.   

     "Watch it!" He snapped, with a thick Brooklyn accent which only seemed to make his words more dangerous than they already were. I quickly apologized while I grabbed my bag and retreated back to the relative safety of my spot, making sure my arm was latched around the bar for my own safety. Mercifully the bus stopped, and even though I was a stop early I made sure I got out of it before that guy knew which school I went to. My feet hit some shallow puddles which managed to seep into my socks almost instantly, and I seriously considered walking back up those steps again. Sighing, there wasn't much I could do about the whole thing but keep pressing forward, joining the crowd of sleep-deprived, coffee-less zombies on the pavement.   

     A quick glance at my phone, and I saw a message from Jacob, but the rain poured so much that the screen was covered in drops, rendering the whole thing unintelligible. He was just going to have to wait.   

     By the time I turned a curb and hit 50th Street, I had successfully managed to bump into no less than three people, while my umbrella nearly blinded an unfortunate fourth. I was almost glad I hit the school, but that sense of feeling only lasted about three or four seconds before I realized who I was facing in the first class.   

     Mr. Thuman.   

     The man had a temper with even the cleanest and the squeakiest of us, so there really wasn't much point in trying to sweeten him up with things such as compliments or small talk.  Instead you just handed what he assigned to you and hoped your offering was enough to appease him for the day. The Biology room was right at the other side of the building, which meant long corridors of people both younger and older than you, and you had no real choice but to move and elbow your way through them. I spotted quite a few faces when I walked past; people I spoke to when they came up to me, others who were part of some of the societies I went to, but not really enough for me to go out of my way to make conversation with.  

     I was a pretty quiet guy, come to think of it.   

     I slipped through the Biology door with two minutes to spare, but the old man was already there, and he was already angry. Of course, I kept my eyes on the ground, because one of the most important rules of that class was not to make eye contact. It seemed to aggravate him even more. I really wanted to know just what he did in his spare time, but the first thing that popped into my head was strangling puppies, and even though that suited his character perfectly I really didn't want to check to see if it was true. I took my place as quietly as I could, nodding at Jacob at the other end of the room, his work already out on the desk and ready to be judged. I did the same, and even risked a quick glance at my phone to see what he messaged me earlier in the morning.  

     That daring action stopped when Thuman scrapped the legs of his chair, standing up as he took a look at each and every one of us.   

     "Homework. Leave it on your desk. Anyone without it gets detention, no questions asked!"  

     He shuffled to each of us, grabbed our copies with as much force as possible. I swore he scowled at me extra-hard when he went for mine, but I was too busy looking away to confirm that. He finished rounding off the rest of our academic sacrifices, slotting himself back into his chair.   

     "Open page ninety-three! Test tomorrow, and keep quiet!"  

     That's what we did – because if we didn't immediately follow his commands we would be murdered on the spot – but it gave us some much-needed room to breathe and pretend that we were actually doing something as opposed to drifting off into space -which was very true in my case. I was finally able to read what Jacob had sent me, but it was nothing too terribly important.   

     'Hi, how you keeping?'  Being part of this class – and school in general – helped me to learn a few things they may not have wanted me to learn in the first place, specifically the ability to memorize the keyboard off by heart and type blind.   

     'We're held captive. What do you think?'  

     A few minutes, and I got my answer again.  'Jeez, just wanted to make some conversation.'  

     'Conversation after class?'   

     'Fine.' He eventually answered, but it was for our own good.   

     Time always seemed to crawl when we were stuck behind a desk, and today was no exception. Jess twirled her hair as she kept her eyes glued to the textbook. Her phone was hidden from view as her thumb danced across the screen. It was clear I wasn't the only one who acquired that skill.   

     I still thought of that girl, and I tried desperately to place the face to anybody I knew. I spent the rest of the class trying to figure it out, but by the time that bell rang I hadn't made any progress.   

     "Dylan!"  

     I ushered Jacob away from the biology room before I let him continue with whatever he wanted to talk about. He was used to that; that room was toxic.   

     "Nice to see you too!"  

     "Sorry, I was too busy endangering the good people of this city to answer you this morning. That and trying to survive the rain."  

     "Oh, don't be so dramatic, Dylan," he replied with that big goofy smile of his, "You haven't come over to my house in a while. Was starting to think you're ignoring me."  

     "We see each other literally every day."  

     "Yeah, in prison."  

     "Oh, come on! It's not as bad as a prison. Now you're being dramatic!"  

     "You're right...it's much better!"  

     "You wouldn't get to see Avril behind a set of bars, Jacob." I knew that the name alone would catch him off guard, because he paused for just a fraction of a second as he tried to come up with a suitable response.   

     "Keep it quiet, she might hear us man!"  

     "C'mon, you've been following this girl for months now, it's getting a bit weird. Talk to her!"  

     "What if she doesn't like me? I'm not sure I'm ready for that sort of rejection."  

     "Well you're never going to know until you try," I retorted as we kept to the left-hand side of the corridor, trying our best to avoid the stampede of juniors moving the other way. Avril was a nice girl, from what I heard. We had pretty different social circles - in that my social circle was pretty much nonexistent - but she actually took the time to say hello and talk to me when we ended up in the same group project. Jacob was interested in sports, which ranked him pretty high on the social ladder. It was a wonder he was talking to me in the first place.   

     The rest of the day passed by slowly, but I managed to make it through without offending anybody who was in a position to do something about it. Jacob had his basketball practice, so I was left to ponder the streets by myself. It didn't really matter though, because I was going to be distracted by that damn dream for the rest of the evening.   

     It was just a dream about a girl who you've probably met before. Get over it! But I wasn't really going to forget about it, now was I?   

     Thankfully it looked like the weather actually improved, which meant the umbrella hung limply in my hands while I walked down towards Forbidden Planet. If there was anything that could distract me, it would be the world of comics and fantasy. I actually tried to get in contact with Jordan – the only other person I knew that took a serious interest in comics – but he never answered. Looked like it was just me, myself and my homework for the evening.   

     Great.   

     I felt a buzz in my pocket, I knew exactly who it was on the other side of the line.  

     "Hello?"  

     "Dylan, we need to talk to you."  

     "Is it about..." My father struggled to keep his voice in check. I knew what it was about. Of course I knew what it was about. It was the reason why I buried myself into any world I could find. "Is...is he okay?"  

     "Can you come home, please?" He wasn't going to tell me, which meant things have already gotten worse.   

     "Y-yeah, on my way." It turned out I was going to be distracted from my dream after all. I couldn't shake the lump in my throat, my eyes stared at nothing but the concrete just like everybody else. I wanted to forget. I wanted my brother to feel better, but it was never going to happen. I wanted to live in a world where everybody was OK, and I wasn't reminded that I was stuck here on a daily basis. This time I didn't care how many people I ran into – I was far too busy dealing with the stinging sensation around my eyes, fighting the urge not to cry in public. I felt my phone buzz inside my pocket again, but I really didn't feel like answering it. I realized that my hands were coiled into fists, I could feel my nails bite into my palm.   

     It's just not fair...  

*  

     The first thing I saw in the forest was a full moon.

     It was a beautiful full moon, and there wasn't a trace of clouds in the sky, so I made out every individual detail of its surface. It seemed different to the one we had in Manhattan, just a little bit closer and a whole lot brighter. The first thing I thought about was my brother, because that hovered over me like for the rest of my evening. Not even my recurring, impossible dream could stop me from worrying about him. I moved the back of my hand against the grass I inevitably laid on, and just tried to forget about everything for a few moments. Despite the lack of cloud cover it was perfectly warm, so for the first few moments of my recurring dream I was pretty content with stretching my arms and legs, lying on my back as I watched the sky above me.   

     Then I realized what I needed to do, and I was back on my feet.   

     Those lights twinkled in the background just like they always had, filling the air yet keeping their distance from me. I moved deeper into the forest, until the sky disappeared under their evergreen leaves. I knew she was here, I knew she would be just as curious to find me as I was to find her, whether she was just a figment of my dream or not. I was careful not to step on any underlying branches or twigs that might catch me out, but otherwise my eyes were set dead ahead, and the darkness that lay before me. The wind began to pick up, but it was blissfully warm even in the darkness.   

     Suddenly, the sound of branches snapping caught my attention, and I ran towards the noise as quickly as my legs could carry me without stumbling and falling over. A few of those little lights got in my way, but I brushed them off as I sprinted past.   

     There, right where we stood the night before... there she was.   

     She had the exact same shocked look on her face, her hair tied loosely to one side. She must have heard me coming, because she glared right at me as soon as I left the clearing. She looked like she was scared, like she had never seen a boy in her life.  

     "What sorcery is this? The Pixies...you trespass on their land, yet they do not punish you! What is the meaning of this?" She demanded. I took back what I thought of her immediately; she wasn't scared in the slightest, and her voice had an authority to it that I've never heard before.   

     "I'm...I'm sorry?"  

     "Answer my question. What is the source of your trickery? These creatures are more dangerous than they appear!"   

      She moved a step closer, and I took a step back. They seemed to pick up on what she said, because they hovered over us, and they brightened and dimmed together in unison. One of them actually dared to move closer to us than any of the others had, dancing on my outstretched hand even when I was terrified beyond belief. It instantly turned numb...but then it felt like something else, a sort of feeling you could only get when you put your hand just a little too close to an open fire. It wasn't entirely pleasant, but it was far from what I thought it would do to me. Two more joined it, crawling over my hand while she looked on in disbelief.   

     "Band of Brigands! Impossible." She cried, reaching for my arm and jerking me away from them so quickly I didn't actually have time to come up with an answer to what she just said. She was impossibly strong, easily carrying me away even when I struggled against her.   

     "Hold on! How come I've never seen you in my dreams before?"  

     She stopped then, and let go of me just as quickly as when she grabbed a hold of me. I swore there was going to be some bruising from her.   

     "Dream? They must have cursed you alright, damn pixies." She muttered, but that only raised a whole lot more questions than it answered (and it didn't answer a whole bunch). She had her own idea of how this place worked, and I was about to move towards her and ask her what on earth she was talking about when my foot finally managed to snag on some low-lying rock, dragging both of us to the ground. I tasted dirt, and she pushed me aside rather easily as she regained her posture. Before I knew it, she stood over me once again. She looked pretty angry in the dark, and without the glow of those pixies she appeared as a silhouette.   

     "Who...who are you?" She demanded as she crouched over me, but by then it was just a little too late. The world around me disappeared before my eyes, the last thing I saw in that particular dream being the shadow of her face and the perplexity of her words.   

     I felt like I was falling, landing right when my eyes opened again, this time surrounded by the familiar walls of my room.   

     That...was interesting.   

 

4: Chapter Four

-Sylvia-

     There were only a number of times when I had ever been truly baffled, and I could name all such instances. As I had come from such a rural home, there hadn't been very many events that could put me in such a state of disbelief.    

     The first time that had my mouth hanging open was when I had to help my Aunt deliver my cousin. I was merely a girl of ten at the time, one could only imagine how truly scarring that could be. Especially when ones own mother would approach, and be sure to tell you that much of the same would be expected of you. Nightmares had plagued me for days after that, and in my young mind I had made a solemn vow to never bare a child of my own. 

     The second instance had been when a wild herd of Centaurs had chosen to migrate through our home. I had awoken to the thunderous sounds of their hooves, clacking against the gravel of the road. They hadn't paid me any mind as they marched on. I had taken to perching myself on top of a hill that wasn't too close, nor too far. There was something that warned me not to near them, perhaps it had been the prideful aura they had exerted, especially from what I had figured had been the leader of their family. A thought was instilled from the very sight of him, one that made me doubt they would take to a young peasant girl, thinking herself worthy enough to try and speak with them. 

     The third instance had been the one with the traveling merchant. The one that had led me to my crotchety old mentor. 

     Yes, those few instances I could recall clearly. And they would always be kept in my mind, when I needed something awe-striking to reminisce about.
Those were all easily trumped however, once I had met the boy who had laid in the Satyr Kings meadow. The one who had so easily won the approval of the fastidious pixies, who had cursed me far too often. I would bet all the treasure in the world, that once upon a time, they had cursed me just for breathing too loudly! 

     It was not just the sight of the boy that had rendered me speechless, nor his affiliation with the pixies (who, by then, I had assumed only flew into the air because they had been offended by my presence). I had been in such a state because, just as soon as I had seen him, he had disappeared just as quickly! It had happened so instantaneously, a blink of the eye would have made you miss it. Which was exactly what had happened.
I could only assume I had looked quite foolish then. With my head darting to and fro in search of him, and my jaw held open. Minutes passed as that routine had continued, until I had decided that he truly was gone. I backed away, half thinking a curse had been laid upon me.    

     A curse for madness..

     I shook my head. There was no way I would have been able to focus on meditating then. Meditation required a clear mind, and absolute silence(in the outer world, and within oneself). And my mind was anything but either of those! Swimming with curiosity, fear, and amazement. With one question, and one question alone to plague me through the rest of the night:

     Who was he?

 

*
 

     Later that very night I had awoken to the pleasant feeling of ice-cold water being poured upon me. A punishment for my insubordination from the nights prior incident. With my teeth clacking loudly as my body begun to shiver, I glared towards my master. My brown night-gown clung to my form, as the water mixed with the cool air had assaulted my skin. He had gladly returned it with one of his own as he threw my boots into my lap.

     "Get dressed." he ordered. It had been far too late (or early) to start an argument, and as such, I had complied with the obedience of a loyal pup. Keeping true to my nature, I had followed him out of the hut, wondering what had caused him to walk with such urgency.

     "What in all of Rongholdst is going on, Arlen?" I asked, huffing as I jogged to keep up with the old man. He had surprised me by keeping up such long strides on his thin chicken legs. His ragged robes fluttered behind him as he grumbled about how I was too bothersome to deal with. It was dark, the shadows of the trees had begun to take shapes of creatures. It would had been frightening had I been new to the forest. Arlen had also emitted a small light from the palm of his hand to help us navigate through the uneven flooring of the wood. I would have shone a light of my own, had I not been so tired.

     It had soon been made clear as to what had miffed him so, as we had finally reached our destination a mile away from the hut. The Satyr King had sent his advisor, and a slew of his most intimidating warriors. They sneered in my direction, but offered Arlen a respectful nod. Their human half of their bodies had donned leather armor, as if they had expected to be in battle.

     "You punish her in whichever way yer' King sees fit." Arlen shook his head, his long stringy white hair swished with each movement. 

     "Punish me for what? I have done no wrong!" I protested, meeting the satyr's sneer with one of my own. I had always fancied meeting a satyr, even hoping to befriend one, when my life had been much simpler. Had I known just how haughty they could actually be-- sometimes for no reason at all, I would have had a much different opinion. 
The satyr's hooves stamped, in attempts to intimidate me. With a sucked in breath, I had stiffened. Trying my best to seem undaunted by their show of power. There was no way I would have allowed them to make me confess to a crime I had not committed. 
The trees swayed in a gentle night breeze, sending an alluring fragrance of lilac shrubs wafted in our direction. It had served to be most calming, staying my tongue ( which would have surely gotten me into more trouble had I let it run ). 

     "The King has become aware of the fact that a human has been roaming his fields. He wishes for immediate retribution for the human who has over-stepped their boundaries." their eyes narrowed as they spoke. 

     It all dawned upon me then, and with a subtle gulp, my thoughts shifted back to the boy. It was he who they had searched for, not I. Yet how was I to explain that to them? One moment he had been as real as magic  itself! And then the next, he had become nothing but a memory, leaving me to wonder if he had existed at all. 
The satyr's standing before me had answered my question. He had been very real, even if he had flickered out of sight like a candle being blown out. The problem then became how to convince them of my innocence. From the looks of Arlen's contorted face, he had not believed me either. 

     "I have done no wrong." I spoke once more, and before they could whisk me away to face whatever other punishment they held in store for me, I continued speaking. "But if you will be as gracious to allow me to prove my innocence.."

     It had taken a lot of coaxing to get the frightening satyr's to agree to my proposition. But it was well worth it. Not only would it get me out of facing their supposed retribution, and Arlen's reprimanding, it would serve as a good excuse to continue to look for the mysterious boy without seeming obsessive. Which I very much was.
There was something about him, that power he had exerted so unconsciously. So strong was his aura, even the pixies had been attracted to it.
I wondered briefly if they too, had felt as though being pulled forward on a line. Being lured in by the strange magic. I knew that even Arlen would be left shaken if he had been in his presence as well. And Arlen was an old man, never deterred by much of anything! 
 

*
 

      I had been given free roam of the forest for three days, to search for the identity of the boy. No matter how powerful he seemed, I would not be taking the fall for something I had not done. Even if he could quite possibly have crushed me with just a look. I wondered if he knew a lot of magic, and if maybe he would teach me some of what he knew. Arlen would have killed me for having thoughts like that. It hadn't bothered me much, the search for knowledge and adventure was a constant force flowing through my veins, and would always keep me thirsting for more. 
I had spent the entire day scouring the eastern plain of the woods. Only stopping to rest, and eat my small meals. I had even resorted to trying my hand at divination. Which, I had sadly failed at. Aggravation had begun to set root in me as I became fatigued traversing through every bush, and climbing into nearly every tree. 

     Where had he gone?

     I looked to the skies, finding the sun taking its leave, allowing the stars dominion of the sky. The last of its light burning red. I shivered at the sight, before I had felt that familiar pull. It had been stronger than it had the night before, and came with colossal force. The forest hummed with life from the excess amount of magic being pulsed into it, just by the strangers presence. The amount being poured into the world had come in quick accession, dangerously so. It was so overwhelming, it had almost felt suffocating. 
I allowed myself to follow the pull, it was much too strong a force to fight it anyhow. The act of trying would only serve as a wasted effort. It pulled through thickets of bushes, the scent of the wild flowers, and elderberries penetrated my clothes. Soon after I had come into a clearing in the central plains of the forest. There before me was the one I had been on the hunt for all day, the one who had plagued my mind to the point of ailment. 

     He had seemingly startled at my presence, and for a split second, I had feared he was going to curse me for my transgression. His eyes were almost as large as I imagined my own to be at that moment however, and that thought had become a fleeting one. When I had calmed, I looked about him, realizing the pixies had flocked to him again. Pixies were bashful creatures, and would not show themselves to anyone they hadn't trusted. Cursing in secret as well, for even in their anger would they choose to hide. That was why they were rarely seen. Yet, there they all flew, dancing about, and drinking in the magical essence from the stranger. 

     "Who are you?" came his voice, breaking me from my thoughts. 

     "What sorcery is this?" I ignored his own inquiry, needing mine to be answered immediately. I never enjoyed being confused, it left a fuzzy feeling in my head. One that would not pass until I had figured out what it was that had put me in such a state. "The pixies.. you trespass upon their land, and yet they do not punish you? Explain this to me, now!" I cared not for whatever power he could have quite possibly wield then, abandoning all courtesies taught to me. I needed to know why the knowledge I had obtained had been completely contradicted by his mere existence. 

     "Pixies?" he returned, sounding quite lost. As if only realizing the creatures that had surrounded him, he reached out a gentle hand to grasp at one. It had eluded him easily, which hadn't surprised me all too much. Pixies were innovative creatures after all, and held fast to their freedom, remaining - for the most part, a mystery to everyone except their own kind. I could take no more of the boy who had been more of a riddle to me than the pixies.

     "Band of Brigands! Impossible!" in my irritable state, I dragged him off ignoring any protest he had brought forth.

     "Hold on." he had attempted to resist, but I held fast. There were answers to be had, and his distress would not cause me to yield. "How come I've never seen you in my dreams before?" I paused a moment, thinking he had been simply jesting. The look spread across his face dispelled my verdict.

     "Dream?" Oh, how I pitied him then. Power, or no. pixie curses were a force to behold, not something to be reckoned with. "They must have cursed you alright, damn pixies." I said, trying to help him realize he had been mystified by the devious creatures work. 

     Perhaps, when his atonement to the satyr's has been fulfilled, I will help him recount whatever it is he has forgotten. I thought dutifully. Those dutiful thoughts had been halted quite suddenly, as the world around me spun. I found myself in a heap on the dirt, along with my unwilling companion. A mere fall would not stop me from achieving my task. I stood once more, the only evidence of our tumble were the small specs of dirt clinging to my clothes. 

     "You.." I forced myself to form a coherent question, "Who are you?" I tried my hand at intimidation, taking a note from the satyr's who had questioned me earlier that day. He made a show to answer me, but to my great dismay, he had disappeared once more. In a very similar fashion to our prior encounter. I clicked my tongue in annoyance, not bothering to look about me as I had before. He would show when he wanted to, and that was how it would be. The satyr's would have to wait to have their wounded pride sated. One had to wonder, just why their King had loved that meadow so much. It wasn't as though he or his kind used it at night anyhow! 
Hopeless in finding a clue as to who the boy was myself, I started off back towards the hut. 

     Perhaps Arlen will know something...

5: Chapter Five

     "And so, the land had changed indefinitely as the years wore on. Mountains remained as tall as ever, the trees changed with the reasons - a constant of greens and browns - and the royalty of the former kingdom grew older and weaker.

     Isabella soon fell ill, and her distraught brothers rushed to the nearest aid they could - a wandering Doctor who traveled from place to place, selling potions & herbs that claimed to perform miracles. Knowing that time was not on their side, Ozwalt exchanged the only form of currency that he had remaining - reluctantly handing over a medallion so dear to him, encrusted with the Phoenix symbol of an overthrown palace.

     Now this Doctor - clearly gifted with a sharp eye & even greater cunning - realized that he could fetch a pretty penny with such an item, & accepted it in earnest. Relieved of the aid the former Princes hoped would cure Isabella, he traveled on his way once more, in the direction of the setting sun, as the men raced towards the rising moon, & the once-beautiful princess which lay in wait.

     Each man had taken up labor in one of the few towns that survived the wars - a shabby population with an ever - diminishing number of able-bodied workers. While Ozwalt & Terru were weak themselves, they were invaluable for helping with the harvest, one of the few who would wake at the crack of morn, & collapse inside their rotting shack as the sun fell away. It was a humble change for the royalty, but alas, all great stories must begin from such a place. They raced back through their door, comforting the Princess. She was a sorry sight - her frame frail and weak, her hair brittle, her body pale. She coughed red, shivering all over. Ozwalt reached for her aid there & then, holding her head up as he fed her the precious medicine.

     But alas, it was not enough to keep her from sleeping at that very same night...because the medicine Ozwalt hoped would perform a miracle...was not medicine at all..."

-"The World of Phoenix & its Origins" - Chapter 3.-

 

-Dylan-

 

     "I dunno, man. You keep saying that she'd like me, but how would you know? You never speak to anyone."

     "I speak to you, isn't that enough social interaction?" I felt like I asked that every time I saw him.

     "Not even close!" Came the usual answer. Jacob sat next to me on the bus, his phone in his hands. He suddenly broke into a smile – it usually meant that Avril came up on screen. I kept telling him to just go up and say hi – they were clearly friends online; it wasn’t like she was going to be blindsided – but he always shook his head at the slightest possibility of doing that. The weather was atrocious out there, more wind and rain than we were used to over the last few days, bad enough to rely on a set of wheels. Unfortunately, everybody else seemed to have the same idea, but we were lucky enough to have a pair of seats to ourselves in the back, even if we couldn't look outside with the amount of people crammed into such a small space. 

     "Look, I've spoken to her a few times. She's lovely. You both like sports. She watches your games. Just think of the power couple you would become!" He knew I made sense, but I saw it in the way he forced that smile for a second longer than usual that he was going to procrastinate until it was too late. That wouldn't have been so bad, if it weren't for the fact that he would go on about her for as long as was humanly possible. I hadn't fallen in love yet, and if that was what it looked like,  I really didn't want to. 

     "Can we talk about something other than the girl I'm never going to be with?" He asked, putting aside is phone for the moment, "How is...you know..."

     "You can say it, it's alright."

     "How's your brother doing?" I appreciated the consideration in his voice. He saw how it affected me. He understood a lot more than most. 

     "Aaron's doing...he's doing fine." I lied, more to myself than anyone else, but it was all I could do, "Visiting him after school. Josephine offered to take me with her."

     "I'm sorry, man." 

     "Don't be. He really is going to be okay." I really hoped that would be the case. More and more people got off the bus with each subsequent stop, which meant a little bit more room to breathe. I stretched my legs and gazed outside the pane of glass which separated us from the cold outside, watched the same city as it passed me by. 

     He really is going to be okay. 

     The same corridors greeted us when we rushed inside, and Geography was going to be the first order of the day. Thankfully the bus actually managed to stick to its schedule, so we had time to relax and grab some stuff. I walked Jacob to his locker – he had a heavy bag to throw in there – and we made our way towards our room without too much in the way of conversation. I sat in my usual spot and dropped the bag on the floor, closed my eyes and drifted away for just a few short seconds. I thought about the girl again, the same girl who grabbed me in the middle of my own dream - I still felt the grip of her hand. She seemed entirely sure of herself, completely confident in what she had to say. How long had she been walking around in my dreams before we spotted each other? Was there more to the forest than meets the eye? Was there more that I needed to explore? 

     "Dylan?" It was Jordan, complete with messy bed hair and dark circles underneath his eyes. The guy had stayed up all night again, you could see it in the way he slumped on his own chair, exhausted. 

     "Having fun over there?" I teased, and he seemed to bury his head underneath his hands as some sort of response. 

     "Can I ask for a favor?"

     "Depends on what the offer is."

     "I need help with a little something. Can we talk about it later?"

     "It's okay, I can give you two some privacy!" Jacob interrupted, lying back on the two back legs of his chair. 

     "I swear Jordan, if it's about a girl I'm not interested. I have enough second-hand soppiness for one day."

     "Hey!" Jacob didn't really take kindly to that.

     "Not a girl I swear, something a bit more serious."

     "What did you do?" He seemed to have a habit of attracting trouble. I couldn't tell if it was just dumb luck, or if he went out of his way to cause trouble. 

     "It's about Michelle -"

     "I thought you said it wasn't about a girl."

     "Not about her; it's about her car. I may have messed up." I wanted to ask more about that, because it was far too intriguing to pass up. Unfortunately, that was the time Mr. Felix walked in, even when the classroom was mostly empty. Felix wasn't much of an improvement over Thuman, but at least he had the decency to complain about being here as much as the rest of us. I could relate to that. 

     "Is this really all that showed up?" He muttered as he checked his watch, sighing in discontent, "Well, can't say I blame them. Just open up your book, we’ll wait until everybody else shows up."

     We were more than happy with that. I asked our teacher how he got on during the weekend - you could at least make some sort of conversation with him - but he just answered with one-worded responses. He really wasn’t in the mood for us today, not that I blamed him. We waited until the classroom filled up to some degree, but even then, there were a few still missing.

     “So, we got a plague going ‘round or what?” Felix asked with a sigh, resigned. They were probably using the weather as an excuse to stay home. It was a shame that I lived pretty damn close to the place as it was. Our teacher went through the process of freeze-thaw action, but I was honestly too distracted by the thought of Aaron. I was nervous. I didn't want to see him any worse than he had been the last time I visited. The hours melted by, and I finally had a chance to hand up my English essay. During all of those classes my mind was occupied, the words and letters in front of me having lost all meaning with everything else that had been happening. 

     I raised my hand in the middle of our History lecture, and asked if I could go to reception. This drew a couple of blank stares, but I just couldn't concentrate with everything that happened. Thankfully they seemed to understand, and I walked outside and into the empty corridors, pausing to catch my breath. It was only then that I realized that I was a little lightheaded, and I paused to lean against the nearest window and tried to wait it out. I couldn't be coming down with something, not now. 

     I had to see my brother. 

     I headed towards reception once I was certain my legs could carry me there, and began dialing the number for Josephine while I waited for some sort of permission to leave the building. I couldn't get through to her of course – a woman like her was far too busy making fashion for the likes of us – so once I was actually able to leave, I was stuck with lounging around until she decided to show up. Thankfully she took the time to answer her phone, though she seemed pretty busy from the chatter I heard in the background. Class ended, and everybody poured out of every door possible, flooding the floor and making things a lot more claustrophobic. I spotted Jacob in the background, though he didn't notice me behind the sea of people. 

     Josephine showed up a few minutes later – wrapped in nothing but primary colors - as she made her way towards me. There was a cup of coffee in one hand, a handbag in another, and she looked like she was in no mood to be in a school - like the rest of us. 

     "What's wrong with you?" She asked, but she said it in such a way that I felt like a nuisance.

     "I'm just worried, that's all."

     "Is it because of Aaron?" Of course it was because of Aaron... but it was also because of her, and I was only aware of just how much I was thinking about her, fascinated with nothing more than a recurring dream. 

     "Yeah..." I eventually answered. She seemed to pick up on my mood. 

     "Well just relax, let's take you to the car. We can pop by for a visit now if you want?" I gulped, shaking my head in an effort to clear it, and nodded. Josephine smiled, but I wasn't sure if it was genuine or simply for show. You couldn't tell from a woman who casually fired people for fun. Her S-Class waited for us outside, a great big barge of a thing, I was surprised she was able to parallel park in that space to begin with, but she hurried towards the driver's door and left me to attend to my own seat. It was massive inside, with a screen bigger than most TVs.  I never cared much for cars, to be honest. The problem with taking off during lunch hour was the sheer amount of traffic that took to the streets, and before long we were stuck right in the middle of it. 

     Fantastic. 

     My head began to spin, so I rested it against the window as we crawled through Manhattan. Josephine kept her eyes fixed on the road - I assumed she had, but her glasses were in the way for me to get a proper look - and didn't say a word for the twenty or so minutes we were kept in traffic. It was only when we were free and traveling at a decent pace when she decided to speak at all. 

     "Look, I know you're worried about him, Dylan. We all are. You know they're doing everything in there, but we have to be realistic here." The words stung, but there was a time and a place where my aunt enjoyed making people feel that way. Today wasn't one of those days. I looked outside and watched the scenery. There was no real point in responding to that...especially when what she said made sense. 

     "Is that why you were feeling sick, sweetie?" She reserved the word sweetie for the rare occasions where she actually opened up and cared about something. I almost forgot how much she cared about Aaron. He was always her favorite. She was partially right; I was thinking about him, but I was thinking about that girl as well. I just nodded, and she understood. There was nothing else that really needed to be said. 

      We glided towards the Manhattan Psychiatric Center, a giant building which extended in front of us. It was an ugly looking thing, more like a prison than anything else. 

     For the past two years, that was my brother's home. Just the sight of the place made me feel nauseous, but I was determined to keep myself together. 

     "Are you sure you're okay? You can come in with your father later if you want?"

     "We're here now." I answered, with a little too much poison in my voice. Josephine stopped asking questions after that. 

      We parked, and I got out and stretched my legs for the first time in about forty minutes. It was cooler here under the shadow of the center, though Josephine was wrapped in too many layers of clothing to notice the difference.

     The place was the same as when we had left it; the same bland counter with the couch facing outward, a single wooden bookcase flanked by golden cabinets. A single, middle-aged woman sat at the very center of it, her smile permanently attached to her face even before she saw us. She always bothered me with that forced positivity. 

     "Josephine! A pleasure to see you again!" Dr. Otker arrived right on-cue, shaking my Aunt's hand as he smiled at me; Aaron was his patient, and we had seen a lot of each other over the past year and a half. I looked away. I wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries.

     "How is he doing?" She asked. Otker's face changed for just the briefest of moments, but it was noticeable - or at least, I noticed it – and we knew what he was going to say before he even had the chance to say it.

     "Let's discuss it while we walk, shall we?" He suggested, but I already knew the way to Aaron's room and I already knew that I was going to be left out of the conversation. I offered to go ahead of them, and Josephine was only too happy to agree with my plan. 

     Of course, I wasn't planning on going all the way, not just yet. 

     While I walked, I noticed that they were moving at a snail's pace, so by the time I turned a corner I had plenty of time to stop and listen to what the good Doctor had to say. 

     "The leukodystrophy is getting worse, I'm afraid. Aaron is showing significant regression which exceeds even our own projections. I'll have to inform his parents about the developments, but we'll monitor him closely from now on. "

     "I understand." My Aunt was fighting back tears, I heard it in the way her voice cracked. They moved closer, so I continued walking until I was a comfortable distance away from them again. The place was filled with patients and nurses, some of them looking worse than others. I tried not to look at them. 

     "How's the boy?"

     "It's getting to him," I heard her say, behind the sounds everything else. I didn't realize that it had gotten to the point where it was that obvious, but I kept moving anyway. The room seemed to spin with every step I took, but the smell of disinfectant wasn't doing me any favors. 

     "He's a good kid. They both are." She replied. I believed her. 

     I made it to Aaron's room before they did, and I just stared at it for a few moments while they caught up. It was an exact replicate of every other door on that floor, but it seemed like it was darker there than anywhere else. I began to see pin-pricks of light as they swam around in my vision. 

     Had I forgotten to eat today, or was that antiseptic getting to me? I couldn't remember having breakfast this morning.

     "Ah, here we are, room 112," Otker stated. I gulped, making an effort to distract myself from how I felt, and walked inside with everybody else. 

     Aaron's room was tiny but well-upholstered; the frame of his bed was smoothed down and rounded, not a single sharp object in sight. The window was huge, so a lot of natural light seeped in. Aaron sat on the one chair he had, eating what I assumed was his lunch. For the briefest of moments, he looked just like the person I remembered, and I told myself that somehow, he had recovered. Unfortunately, he turned around to take a look at all three of us, and my heart sank. His eyes were bloodshot, big dark circles permanently etched beneath them. His cheeks were hollow, and his hands were almost permanently fused together. He was just a year older than me, but he was a shadow of his former self. 

     "Aaron! How are you, love?" Josephine chirped, like a mother cooing a toddler. He grinned and laughed just like a child, and that was the part that got to me the most. He was the coolest one out of the both of us. He smoked. He painted. He had a girlfriend. All of that changed, and it changed in the blink of an eye. 

     "He's been a very good boy, you know!" The good doctor added in the same pseudo-positive tone. It made me feel just a little bit sick. It was false hope, but we couldn't tell him about the real bad news, now could we? 

     "Aaron..." That was all I could muster, but his eyes darted towards me as soon as he heard me. He muttered something I couldn't hear, but he wrapped his arms around me and buried his head in my shoulder, ecstatic. 

     "Nice to see you too."  

     "We'll leave you two catch up for a minute." Otker stated, no doubt giving the both of us some privacy while he went through the more critical points with Josephine. She smiled at me, but it was forced. She looked at Aaron the same way I did. 

     "You two play nice!" She called out as she wrapped her arms around him, holding his face in her hands as she took a long look at just how far he looked from the person he was. She began to well up slightly, and turned away before he could see it. Otker escorted her outside, and we were alone together for the first time in a while.   

     I took a look at his desk, spotted a bunch of A4 paper arranged messily in the corner, and took a look at the first set of sketches. He was always the artist of the family; it was great to see that it was still a trait he held on to...for the moment. Was that going to be taken away from him, too? Will there be nothing left by the end of it? I knew the answer to both of those questions, and it just made my head spin a little bit more. 

     "So... how you keeping?" I started, and it took everything I had to keep my voice straight and level. My brother smiled and hobbled towards me and his sketches, taking a few select pieces out of my hands. They were still fantastic to look at; one of them was a golden castle, standing tall over the rest of a half-finished village. The circles and shapes were meant to represent people, the perspective seemed to come from one of those villagers, as they gazed at the castle almost in longing. Aaron whispered something, buried deep in concentration, like a child putting the final piece of a puzzle together. The next picture he showed me was a portrait of himself; you could tell from the way the blonde hair matched his almost exactly, but this picture seemed to reflect how he looked before this disease grabbed him. He looked like he was laughing, I actually noticed the wrinkles around his eyes and the teeth that he shaded with a white pencil. 

     He was aware of the leukodystrophy. I let that sink in for a minute while he showed me the rest of his works in progress. He was aware of the disease that was slowly killing him, but he was barely able to speak. He wasn't able to talk to anybody...it wasn't fair...

     "Dylan..." He must have noticed how my eyes watered. His face immediately changed to concern, like he was about to cry as well. 

     "Hey...hey it's going to be okay, I'm alright!" I promised him, but it turned out he wasn't looking at me. The final sheet of paper in his hand was torn slightly at the edges from the way his fingers bore into them, but it was a lot rougher than some of the other pages he'd shown me, the picture clearly drawn from memory. He offered the page to me, and I took a quick look as soon as the page was in my hands. I kept staring at it while I took a seat on the bed, right as my brother sat alongside me. 

     The face, the way her hair was drawn, the stance. It was very rough, but there was no question as to who it was. Absolutely no question whatsoever. I felt the blood drain from my face, and my head suddenly began to feel a whole lot worse. I was extremely lightheaded, it felt like I was detached from my body for just a few seconds. 

     "Aaron, is this..."

     "The girl... The girl...The girl..."

     "You've seen her?" 

     "Dylan...The girl...Rongholdst..."

     "What?" He got more and more erratic, and that last word made no sense to me, but he kept repeating it, pointing to the picture of the girl each and every time. 

     "Girl...Rongholdst...Dylan...the girl!"

     "Aaron, you're scaring me!" He stood up, pointed to the drawing, and planted it squarely against my chest. He was shaking. He began shouting louder and louder. I begged him to stop, but he just didn't listen. 

     "The Girl! Rongholdst!"

     Otker barged into the room, restraining Aaron immediately as he politely moved me aside. Josephine grabbed me from behind, pulling me back. 

     "Stop it!" I cried out, but I was already escorted to the corridor, right as the Doctor shut the door behind us. Aaron was still shouting, even when Otker pleaded with him to calm down. 

     "What did you say to him?" Josephine threatened, a single vein popping through her forehead. 

     "I didn't do anything I swear!"

     "You know better than to make him upset! We're leaving, wait in the car while I try and sort everything out!" She spat, and that was enough for me to storm outside, the crumpled sketch of the girl still glued to my hand.

 

*

 

     I woke up in my dream again – the same familiar sight of the pine trees greeted me – and it was a welcome relief from what happened during the rest of the day; I was blamed immediately for what happened in there, and my father had a long and lengthy discussion about just how fragile Aaron really was right now. We ended up shouting at each other as I tried to prove my innocence, but it didn't really matter. Josephine refused to speak a word to me on the way home, and parked right outside the door so I could get out as soon as possible. I tried calling my mother – because if anybody would listen to me, it would be her – but the number just rang out. Her presentation was tomorrow morning, she was probably finishing off the final touches of the model to present to clients. 

     I didn't care about models right now.

     It was a lot colder in my dream. I shivered on the ground, so I stood straight up and moved deeper into the forest, but there was no getting away from that chill. I began by moving away from the trees, into places that I never went before. 

     If the girl was a constant in my dream, then she had to have come from somewhere. 

     Those little lights – those pixies, as she liked to call them – twinkled as they moved between the branches while I walked. The trees never seemed to end, no sign of any plains in sight. It started to get even colder, it crept down my spine while I moved. The darkness seemed to break through my cover; I made out stars, but they looked completely different to the ones back home. They flickered with every color of the rainbow, and they appeared to be far larger than the ones that soared above New York City. 

     I didn't care about the stars. I cared about finding the girl.

     Animals came out from time to time as they crossed my path; a few ravens - at least, I assumed they were ravens. It was too dark out to see them clearly - flew from nest to nest, while rabbits roamed freely among the overgrowth. They shied away when they saw me, afraid of the stranger trespassing through their home. There were no obvious paths here, which meant that not a lot of travelers walked through. The entire place was untouched, apart from my own sorry feet messing up the place. 

     "You there! I order you to halt!" I didn't know where she came from, and I hadn't known if she had been following me or not, but I turned around in surprise to find her standing there, not at all bothered by the cold. I was about to ask her what she was doing, but she had closed the gap between us before I had the chance. She grabbed my arm again, right where she had before. It hurt quite a bit, but she didn’t let go. 

     "What are you - "

     "I do not understand what it is that makes you special, but I will not be framed for a crime I did not commit, by a boy who disappears just as quickly as he appears!"

     "Can you at least tell me where we're going?" She was just as strong as I'd remembered, and there was no real way of shaking her off. 

     "We shall head towards Cluny, where you will be held for the crime of trespassing on the Satyr's sacred land without their consent, and you will speak of my innocence!"

     "Satyrs?" What did she mean? The actual mythical beasts that roamed through almost every fantasy novel I've read? That was dangerous, they normally stood taller than the average human. What were they going to look like in my dream? 

     Because that was all this was - a dream. 

     I had to follow her, considering she wasn't going to let me go anytime soon, but we moved in a direction I hadn't taken before, and immediately the forest began to thin out, almost on its own accord. The ground grew more mountainous and unstable, and the threats of twigs and roots were replaced with rock and potholes once we managed to find a path of some description. Her grip on me loosened once she realized that I was walking alongside her, though she never let go. I turned to look at her, but her eyes were fixed towards the path, never looking away. 

     The ground soon started to shine; precious stones emerged from the earth as they reflected what little moonlight was offered. They were clear-cut, embedded with flakes of every color imaginable. I shuffled towards them out of curiosity, but the girl pulled me right back with a jolt, unamused. 

     "Those are their treasures! You will do well not to poach from them. The Satyrs demand you be punished enough as it is!"

     "Alright, just leave me go, I'll walk alongside you!" I replied, still reeling from how she pulled me back with very little effort. She answered by glaring at me through doubtful eyes. She wasn't going to leave me go in a hurry. 

     "I do not believe you." 

     "Where am I going to go? You know you can just catch me if I try to run."

     "I am aware of your trick, how am I to know that you will not disappear before I present you to the court?"

     "If I disappear, I'm going to disappear whether or not you're holding onto me." She thought about what I had just said. The girl turned away; her attention drawn to a strange sound as it came from the other end of the forest, perhaps? 

     "True..." She let go of me then, and I flexed my hand to make sure there wasn't any permanent damage done. She simply looked at me – the strange boy in pain – and shook her head out of pity. She kept moving, and I was left with very little choice but to follow her. The pixies danced above us, but they soon grew smaller in number, right until there were only a handful left. I wanted to ask her why that was, but there really was no need. I soon saw a light just off the beaten track, a tunnel cleverly concealed with the surrounding earth, its entrance covered in those same earthed jewels. I couldn't tell if they were deliberately placed there or if they were naturally occurring in a higher quantity.  They must have been commonplace in this world, the girl alongside me passed by them without so much as a second glance. She strode into the entrance, paused only to stop and to turn around, just to make sure that I hadn’t made a run for it. I followed begrudgingly, ready as I would ever be for whatever trail she spoke about. 

     I became a little more afraid when I saw the creatures which stood at the very end of the cavern; They looked human in the way they stood and in the way they looked, but their feet had morphed into hooves, their faces and body covered in hair. They wore very little in the way of clothing, save for a few vines and leaves to protect their modesty. I wasn't even sure if modesty was an issue among their race, but my face turned red at the sight of them. Their children pointed at me like I was some sort of monster, hey seemed to give due respect to the girl, which meant they had encountered each other before.

     "You will speak to the king in a respectful manner, and you will only speak when spoken to," she warned me quietly, just as they gathered in a circle around us, sealing off any hope of an escape. It started to sink in, just how serious this all was to them, and to her. I had almost forgotten that it was all just a dream. 

     One of them stood out from the others. While the rest of them were standing, this particular Satyr had been sitting down, yet he matched the height of all but the tallest of his clan. When he stood, he towered over all of us, easily the most terrifying thing in this dream. He moved cautiously, just a few stray grey hairs revealing his age. He moved towards me, and when I tried to move backwards – out of panic more than anything else – the girl pushed me forward, not intent on leaving me go so easily. 

      "You will explain why you so wished to roam within our territorial claim without my explicit permission!" He roared, a great primal sound that I felt in my bones.  

 

 

 

6: Chapter Six

-Sylvia-

     I was never one to keep my emotions in check, especially my anger. My short temper was explained to have come from my mothers side of the family, or so my father always said. It was quick to bubble within me, and just as quick to release. Unfortunately, I had no outlet once the boy had disappeared. 

     It turned into something of a game, like cat and mouse chasing one another. I, however, had quite enough of playing. With only a limited amount of time to prove my innocence, there was naught time at all to waste. My brisk walking had turned into sprinting, as I made my way back home to Arlen. I ducked and weaved under fallen branches of the ancient great oak trees, and passed the smaller wicklows. The scenery around me became a blur, and soon enough I found myself in front of the shabby door to the hut. Off to the side, I could see a couple of the warrior-satyr's sitting around a camp they had created for themselves. Most likely to keep tabs on me. I could only roll my eyes as I pushed my way inside. 

     I found Medea, sitting on the stump of a tree Arlen had often used as a stool, sipping on a cup of mugwort tea. Her silky golden hair was let loose and brought forward upon her shoulder. She was such a pretty girl, and the only feelings I had harbored towards her then could only be defined as jealousy. She nodded towards me, taking another sip of her bitter drink. 

     "Hello, Sylvia." she greeted, "I hope you don't mind, I helped myself to one of your nightgowns." It was only then I had noticed she wore my most comfortable one. Suffice it to say, her presence then did little to help quell my irritation. I had minded her going through the little few items held in my possession, but seeing as how she was my masters granddaughter (and perhaps the only friend I had at the time), I mustered the most gracious smile I could summon.

     "Help yourself to anything you need," I looked about the hut, there were only two rooms to it. Not many places for an old man to hide. "Have you an idea as to where Arlen could be?"

     "To fetch more firewood, I assume. We are quite low." she offered a cup of tea, to which I declined. Knowing the herbs that Arlen had in stock, they would all taste bitter, leaving a foulness to sit in the pit of my stomach. I could not quite understand the taste he and Medea had acquired. 

     I watched Medea for a time, wondering why it was she was taking lodge in the tiny hut. Hadn't she been with some great respectable order? Though she would not name exactly which it was, it had been clear (from what she described) that they were well enough off to live like nobles. Offering luxurious rooms to even the lowest of initiates. 

     After a while, she had caught me staring. I had little shame when it came to such things. If I found something - or someone interesting, I would not be coy about it. Medea had come to learn it the hard way. At the start of our friendship she had tried many times to make me blush, to no avail. 

     She had once tried to present me to a lad in a nearby village as well, how laughable that situation was! It had gone so poorly, in turn, Medea had been the one left with a flushed face. As it turned out, the lad took no interest in me, and I none in him. He had eyes for her, and she had been absolutely blind to it.

     "Why do you stare at me so?" she asked with an intrigued expression. I sat myself upon the floor, at her side near the fire. Continuing to stare at her, knowing full well she was becoming uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat, waiting for me to answer. Oh, how I did love being dramatic! I was a bit of a hypocrite when it came to things like that. Never wanting to on the receiving end of a jest, but always one to give it out. 

     "I am simply wondering, Medea, why it is you are here, and not where you usually are?" I hadn't the slightest of idea where it was she had usually resided. The order she so idolized was all but a mystery to me, one that I had little care for. Stories of Knights and maidens were never something of interest to me, those were things Medea fancied.

     "I am very glad you've asked!"

     She placed her mugwort tea upon a rickety old round table that was of poor make ( Arlen's attempt at finding a hobby ).It wobbled with the added weight; I became fearful. 'My time as a squire is now over!' she hopped off of the stump excitedly, placing her slender hands upon her smiling face. 'I am now a Companion-at-arms! Which means that in the next year- if I prove my worth, I will be able to become a full-fledged Knight.' I stared at her blankly, her alabaster skin glowed within the light of the fire. 

     How did that have anything to do with why she was staying with us? 

     As if reading my thoughts, she continued speaking, "And.. you care naught at all for such matters!" I shook my head, quickly growing disinterested. I briefly wondered when Arlen would return. "Once I become a Knight, I'll have little time for much else. They gave me leave to spend time with my Grandfather before I take any vows." She explained, sitting down once more. The excitement on her face vanished just as quickly as my interest in her.

     "Huh." I replied. I laid on my back, and remained in that position for some time. Neither Medea, nor I interested in breaking the silence that had befallen. 

     Luckily, Arlen returned soon after. The door to the hut kicked open, as he came barging in with his arms full of wood for the fire. He staggered over, panting heavily and paying little mind to us. Only when he had tripped over me and spilled all the wood, did he decide to address us.

     "Yer.. good-for-nothing'! Lazing about on the floor, causing nothing but mischief!" he chided as he pulled himself up off the floor. I made no show of moving, though I wanted to rub away the pain on the leg of which he had tripped. Neither had I any intention of apologizing, he had quite plainly seen me laying there after all! He gathered up the fallen wood, grumbling to himself. Not quite how you would imagine a great enchanter to be. "Shouldn't ye' be searchin' fer whoever yer supposed to be searchin' fer?" He asked after having calmed some. 

     "Aye." I agreed, suddenly feeling quite tired. "And I have found him."

     "Then where is he, ye sorry lout?" 

     "Who knows." I thought back to our second meeting. I had him in my grasp, and once I had let slip our hands, he vanished once more. I secretly promised myself for when next we met, I would not let him escape so easily. 

     I sat up, catching Arlen's eye. His face frozen with that same scowl I had familiarized well with. It scared me to find, at some points my face would resemble his in much the same way. No matter how often we fought, I was fond of my master and assimilated much of him into myself. Even his mannerisms. I feared at one point my social skills would diminish into only a memory, and one day, I would find myself living in a hut of my own. The thought of it caused my face to contort in disgust. 

     "Well?" asked Arlen, losing his patience with how vague my answers had been. 

     "Well, he has proven to be as elusive as your Pixie friends." I explained, "And was wondering if you would aid me by using a divination spell to locate him."

     "What? Ye could not use such a simple spell yerself?" He sounded baffled. It was true, as much as I had loved learning magic, I proved to be no prodigy. The learning part had been easy, it was performing the spell itself that had shown to be quite difficult. That was perhaps, the one and only thing that had brought me shame. My eyes turned to stare at the dusty floor. "Unbelievable. I got a granddaughter who would be brilliant at learning our craft, but doesn't wish it. And a girl who has her head so far in the clouds that she can't sit still for one moment, and constantly finds herself in trouble!"

     He waved me out of the way, taking a seat where I once rested. I quickly described the boy to Arlen, just so he had some sort of idea as to who to look for.

     "He has a head of gold, like Medea.. and he wears the strangest clothing. It is of a make I had not seen before. He might be foreign." I doubted Arlen would have much trouble finding him, if he was close, the magical pull of the boy would guide him true.

     I stood over the man, who immediately fell into a meditative state. His eyes could be seen moving back and forth beneath his lids. His veins were more prominent than I had realized. 

     He would have far less wrinkles if he did not frown so much, I thought. 

     Minutes passed as he worked his magic, scouring for the boy in the forest. Standing with my arms crossed straight over my chest, I glanced out the window. That Satyr's looked so uncomfortable, it had pleased me to see. They had pushed me into a state of discomfort, causing me to lose my beloved rest. Now they would suffer all the same. I silently hoped the boy would stay hidden for a bit longer, if only to sate my lust for a little harmless revenge..

     "I think..I think I've found this boy." Arlen spoke in disbelief. I could only conclude he had felt the power I had. My mouth dipped into a frown, and my wish for the Satyrs was thrown out the window.

*

     Arlen had told me of his exact location, which luckily had been quite close. It was a small blessing considering the circumstances. I brought along the warriors, instructing them to hide just in case he vanished again. If he did, at least there would be proof of his existence, as my word carried little weight with their people.

     There he stood, looking dazed for a moment, pixies surrounding him once more. I had half a mind to swat them away, like unwanted flies. I ignored the suffocating feeling of his magic that time. If he wanted harm to befall me, I was sure he would have done something about it during our first encounter. 

     The temperature seemed to drop as we neared him. It had seemingly affected him as well, as I noted the slight quivering of his shoulders.

     "You there. I order you to halt!"

     I had to make sure to assert some decree of authority.For added emphasis: I puffed myself up by placing my hands on my hips while sucking in a breath, hoping I appeared as intimidating as I possibly could. He looked upon me with that familiar questioning gaze. Wasting little time by remembering my oath of not letting him escape me, I made to grab him. My clasp was firm, and immediately I had regretted it. Every time he appeared his presence only grew stronger. As soon as I made contact with him, my head began to spin. His power reverberated within me. Doing my best to mask my distress, I pulled him along, following the Satyrs. 

     The early light of day began to break through, shining small rays of light through the canopies of the high-rising oaks. I could feel the Pixies following the trail of magic he was leaving in his wake. 

     "I do not understand just what it is that makes you special, but I will not be framed for a crime I did not commit by a boy who vanishes as quickly as he appears!" I stated, making my intentions clear. When my name was cleared, I would apologize for my stern behavior. But until that time, I was sure to make clear that I was no one's puppet, and would not be used as such. 

     "Can you at least tell me where we're going?" He asked, after much useless struggling. My irritation bubbled once more, mostly towards the warriors who did little to help me with the one in my grasp.  They would only turn their heads slightly, just to make sure we yet followed. A gesture that wasn't quite needed, as the boy made such a fuss. It was loud enough to wake all of Rongholdst. Their long ears flicking with amusement at the sight of us. Knowing full well they would not answer any of his questions, the responsibility fell upon my shoulders. Pity had begun to take root within as he genuinely seemed lost. To alleviate his harrowed state, I decided to answer his questions in part.

     "We will head towards Cluny, where you will be held for the crime of trespassing on the Satyr's precious land without their consent, and you will speak of my innocence!"

     Soon, we had come upon their kingdom. It had been as new to me, as it was for him. Should I had ever made an attempt to journey into their rocky lands, they would have surely struck me down. It would have been swift, and without hesitation. And it would be no ones fault but my own. I had caught glimpse of the boy, who looked around in awe, his eyes gleaming at the sight of the diamonds, and gems embedded plainly upon the walls of their home. My elbow struck him, and with a stern look I advised him against even thinking about taking any. Though, I was sorely tempted to myself.

     "The Satyr's demand you be punished enough as it is!"

     "Satyrs?" he questioned. In the name of magic.. the poor sod must have been cursed worse than I thought. I could sympathize with him. When I first came into the forest, the Pixies had cursed me with hair loss. I had nearly gone bald until Arlen had told them I had learnt my lesson. It worked out in the end, my black curls had all but grown back even softer than before. 

     I strung the boy along, trying to keep him close in hopes of causing as little disturbance as possible. All while trying to navigate over the rocks that jutted out from the floor, threatening to trip me. He was in enough trouble as it was. He begged me to release him, causing me to halt briefly. I feared him disappearing once more, being in the heart  of their Satyr's home, I did not relish the thought of meeting the King alone. 

     "Where am I going to run? If I do, you'll catch me effortlessly." he reasoned. It was almost as though he forgot his little vanishing trick, though at the time he showed little sign of playing that card again. And so, being the gallant woman that I am, I released him, and walked ever on. 

     We finally came upon the opening of the cave where the court would meet us. Our warrior-guides keeping a further distance from us as the eyes of their people washed over our forms. A great fire pit had been placed in the center of the cavern, and around it a fair amount of Satyr's socialized. The females gripped their children closer, not allowing them to near us. I strained to see ahead, barely sparing them a glimpse as they had for us. My interests were with seeing the King, I had heard stories of his greatness from Arlen, and his praise was a difficult thing to come upon. He had yet to speak any to me.

     Finally, the end of the tunnel could be seen. I gulped, thinking it an ill omen. Though, I found myself making that of much everything. Thinking it a good idea on advising the stranger on how to address royalty, I spared quick whispers so only he would be able to hear. 

     "You will speak to the King in a respectful manner, and you will not speak unless spoken to." he seemed frightened, and by that time I was keen to spare him any further punishment he might had received. 

     The court could be heard, becoming more restless as time passed. In their irritability, they clacked their hooves recklessly, causing a great echo down the enclosed path of which we walked. I much suspected this caused my companion to dread his fate even more than he had already. 

     We came upon the proud King, who stood towering over us, wearing little else but a crown made of laurels. He was broad, his tousled dark hair shined as much as the velvety fur upon his lower half, and his eyes half lidded in disdain. His ears pulled back in anger. Even I had found myself shrinking back under his gaze, tearing all certainty within asunder. 

     His clear voice came strong and smooth, it was rich with a regality I had not ever been privileged to hear. Until then. 

     "You will explain why you desired to infiltrate our territorial claim without my explicit permission!" I much suspected he had not wanted to waste his time in the presence of lowly humans. Nor did he want us treading in his home for long. 

     We were pulled into the great hall by the warriors, where the court all sat in their stone seats. Statues of Kings passed were carved into the side of the cavern walls, and were adorned in similar gemstones we had seen earlier. The eyes of the statues bore into me, almost as relentless of the King that yet lived who stood afore us. The room was dome shaped, and the ceiling non-existent. The light of the sun shone down upon us, with the clear skies hanging over head. The light of the sun had made the gemstones gleam brighter than they had. White puffs of clouds drifted by, devoid of any care. I found myself yearning to be out of their stone halls, and back in the comfort of the forest. 

     Surely they had no need of my presence? I made to slink away, leaving the boy to face the King alone. I was stopped by the King's gaze, who yet waited for an answer. The Satyrs that made up the court had their ears pulled back as well, some were restlessly fiddling with the vines that they donned.

     The boy and I shared horrified expressions, willing each other to respond. I made a show of shutting my mouth tight, the jutting of my jaw could be felt. There was no way I would risk speaking in the wrong form to the King of Satyrs. With a nudge, I pushed my companion forward. He stumbled, and looked about the room in attempts to gather his wits. 

     "I..." He opened and closed his mouth, reminding me of a fish out of water. It was the perfect comparison. After a bit more spluttering, he could be heard sucking in a breath. His shoulders squared and the tremble in his voice had almost vanished. 'I beg your forbearance, your grace.' he snuck a peek at the great King, who then looked upon him in interest, reserving his disdain for me then. 

     He had seemed to have experience in flattering Kings. Looks were deceiving, as the tale went.

     The Satyr King lifted his chin, looking down his long sharp nose. Nodding for him to continue. 

     "I had no knowledge of your claim to the land.." He paused in what could only be interpreted as an attempt to find the correct words. "Had I known, I certainly wouldn't ever disrespect you in the way that I have."

      The court was silent, before breaking out in various calls. 

     "They should yet be punished!" yelled one advisor. My eye twitch at the word they. Meaning, some punishment would befall me.

     "Take pity on the girl!" cried another voice, at which time I had found myself nodding earnestly.

     "We cannot allow a show of disrespect to go unpunished!"

     "We will be looked down upon!"

      With a raise of his large hand, the King had silenced his court once more. He thought a moment, looking between both me and the boy.

     "Very well, bind and have the boy flogged."

      I let out a sigh of relief, the punishment wasn't as terrible as I had feared it would be. With any luck, they wouldn't want to waste their food on such over such a silly thing. That relief was short lived, as I felt myself being plucked off the ground with ease, and dragged away into the corridor from whence we came. I looked about in shock, eyes darting from one warrior to another.

     "I'm not a boy!" I cried, as they took me to where I would be bound. My cries fell upon deaf ears however, as the court had begun to speak amongst themselves once more. The King's large hooves clacked against the stone as he made his way to sit upon his throne. 

     The boy smirked to himself, making no move to correct the Satyr's mistake. I suspected it to be retaliation for leaving the duty of speaking in front of the court to him. He was more cunning than I had previously expected. I almost felt a little proud of him, for finding his own retribution. 

*

     After being pelted by various foods ( rotten eggs being a favorite ), I found myself in the presence of one of the Kings advisors, who held a finger beneath his nose. The smell wafting off of me had made me faint, as I much imagined it had made the Satyr standing before me. 

     With a sniff, I made an attempt to focus on what he spoke of.

     "You will be expected to do chores for the King, when he chooses to call upon you as well. Take heart, human. Know that your punishment could have been far worse than a meagre flogging!"

     And with one final look, he trotted off as gracefully as his horse-legs could carry him. My eye twitched in irritation. It was not my punishment. Though, it seemed their people could not tell apart a human man from a human woman. It was insulting, to say the least.

     I found the boy waiting for me at the foot of the hill we climbed to find the entrance to the Satyr's home. He smiled weakly at me, watching me pull a piece of lettuce from my then knotted hair. I was surprised to find him still there, not yet vanished. My curiosity over-powered my anger.

     "I'm Dylan, what's your name?" He spoke before I could retaliate with words of my own, sounding quite chipper than before while looking about more confidently than the first couple of times he had shown himself. I wanted to ignore his question, and ask him about his magical essence, but I supposed a certain protocol was called for.

     "Sylvia." I responded simply. I was glad for it being day, the Pixies would often sleep during daylight, preferring instead to rise with the moon. The moon was a great source of magic, often refueling me when I felt fatigued after a long day. It was little wonder why they had preferred that time.

     "Sylvia.." He repeated so quietly, I almost missed it. 

     "From where do you hail, Dylan?"

     He laughed then.

     "Man, this dream just keeps getting more realistic by the minute. I'm just wondering when the elves are going to pop up." He laughed again, shaking his head. His golden locks swept over his eyes. My nose scrunched in confusion, what one earth was he on about? Didn't he know elves preferred the eastern plains of Rongholdst? And he kept making mention of all of it being a dream! What dream? I certainly was no dream! And even if I had been a figment of his imagination - would he truly subject a maiden such as I, to such cruelty? 

     I looked down at my pathetic form, all the foods that riddled me began to bake in the sun. 

     "You have yet to answer my question." I stopped in my tracks, pulling him by his sleeve. He nearly toppled over from my abrupt actions. I glared at him, trying to figure him out. He seemed to want to keep his secrets, but I would not be refused. The least he could do was teach me the source of his power! 'Teach me your magic.' I commanded, folding my arms. Though, I very much doubted that in my state, he would take me seriously. 

     "Magic? There's magic in this dream, too?" He looked around, spotting a long broken branch. He picked it off the ground, holding it the way one would a stave. It was the perfect length to impersonate such a weapon. He tested its weight a couple of times, before a smile spread across his face. I watched him warily. What on earth was he up to? 

     "Just like Gandalf, don't you think?"

     "Who?" 

     "Maybe I'd be better off with a smaller stick.." He looked around once more, abandoning his make-shift stave, until he found a stick. "Dumbledore was always cool, too." He kept naming all these people! I had never been so confused in my life, and I hadn't enjoyed a single moment of it! That nagging feeling in my head appeared once more, the one that craved for answers. Were Gandalf and Dumbledore teachers of his? Were they the ones who had taught him to harness such a power? Could Arlen compare to his teachers? 

     Unable to take much more of his tomfoolery, I ripped the stick from his hand. He winced as I scraped away some of the skin on his palm, begetting drops of blood.

     "What was that for?" He cried, tending to his wound with all the attention and drama of a young girl. One thing was certain, he certainly couldn't hail from here, he wouldn't have lasted as long as he had if his threshold for pain was as meager as I was led to believe. 

     "In all of Rongholdst, it is but a splinter!" I cried, but his face changed suddenly, and that scared me. Had I offended him, forcing him to use what powers he had out of impulse? I was scared then, but the feeling vanished into air when he gazed right past me, staring at the world around him. 

     "Rongholdst...How do you know my brother?" He muttered, his lips just barely moving, his earlier pain forgotten.

     Brother? What brother?

     If there was one thing I was certain of this strange boy, it was that he never ceased to confuse me. I was just about to answer him, only to see his eyes roll back inside his head, vanishing in a heartbeat, leaving me with just myself for company on the plains I was wise to depart without haste. 

     I was going to discover more about him, this confusion was simply too much to contend with on a regular basis, and he needed to repay me for taking his place on account of his punishment...

7: Chapter Seven

     "And so, they buried the woman they called their sister, through tears & anger, placing Isabella gently in her final resting place. She seemed to be smiling then, her own family crest placed loosely around her fingers; a symbol of the princess she once was. It was a day of rest within the village, & under the rays of that scorching day, Terru & Ozwalt exchanged their goodbyes, before placing shovel upon shovel of dirt to seal her grave.

     Birds continued to sing in the nearby evergreens, the world continued its day uninterrupted, & Ozwalt soon grew bitter with the betrayal which cost Isabella her life - & the Doctor whom he felt needed to be brought to justice. So, upon leaving instruction to his younger brother to maintain their dwelling while he was absent, he took off in the cover of darkness, his heart full of intended vengeance.

     His cloak could not dispel the cold forever, the absent-clouded sky & the full moon beyond warning him that his intentions would never resolve what had happened, but the fire in his very core dispelled all of that, carrying on & paying no heed to his naivety..."

-"The World of Phoenix & its Origins" - Chapter 4.-

-Dylan- 

     It was real, every single tiny individual part of it; the trees and the pixies and the satyrs and the gems and... her.  

     Sylvia.  

     I couldn't remember waking up. My dream usually faded to black before I woke up back inside my room, but this time it happened in an instant. One minute I was there, and the next I heard the rain as it poured outside our apartment, another terrible night in the great big city. I shivered, yet covered in sweat. I had almost fallen out of the bed, my pillows tossed on the ground. It was cold, much like my dream. I shuddered almost as soon as I thought about it, so I reached for the dial on my radiator to turn it on, taking a good long look outside my window.

     All I could see was darkness, nothing like the stars and the moon that glistened in her world. 

     While my hands were glued to the heating, I thought about the Satyrs and their trial. I couldn't help but smile when I remembered how they took Sylvia away, mistaking her for myself - I guess gender studies wasn't a subject they were very good at - though I felt a hint of regret. She ripped a piece of my skin when she grabbed the stick she held, but she wasn't one to deliberately injure someone.  

     She was trying to figure out what on earth I was. I was doing the same.

     The more I thought about it – about the forest, the creatures I found, and the girl who was determined to bring me to them – the more it excited me. I had thought that it was just a forest, a permanent purgatory where I could breathe and unwind, but there was an entire world beyond the trees and the pixies, and there were creatures and kingdoms just waiting to be explored. It was just like the novels I've read when I was young, and the possibility of exploring all of this excited me.  

     Then I remembered Aaron.  

     It all dawned on me suddenly, a switch which reminded me of what was happening in my world. I remembered the car ride home, and the argument I had with my father. I remembered crying into my pillow when I locked my door out of anger; there were still lightly-damp patches from where my tears hit the covers.

     It read three-forty-five on my clock, which meant that I was going to endure another insomniac evening in the run-up to school. It really didn't bother me this time around, because I had enough thoughts and questions to keep me awake for a good long while. I slipped on some pants and shuffled out into the kitchen – shutting my eyes until they got used to the light – with the fridge as my target. I hadn't bothered to eat my dinner, so it was lying in wait for me as soon as I opened the door, covered in tin-foil. I was about to throw the whole thing into the microwave, but I heard a noise coming from the other room.  

     It was Dad. I must had woken him.  

     He took a look at me as soon as he emerged from his room, moving towards the coffee machine. It looked like he was planning on staying awake, as well.  

     "Sorry for waking you." It was the only thing I could think of at that point in time. He just smiled as the magic caffeine machine whirred into life.  

     "You didn't wake me, don't worry." 

     "Good..." 

     "Grateful that you're not leaving food go to waste, by the way."  

     "You of all people would say that." I replied. He chuckled to himself. It was like we had never fought at all. My food was ready, and his coffee had poured and was ready to drink. We sat down on the couch together, he turned on the TV, but it was a channel that neither of us had any intention of watching. I ate my pasta while he sipped from his cup, with only the sound of rain breaking through the occasional lapse in sound.  

     "Is Mom doing OK?" I hadn't heard from her in a while. I had never seen her go this long on radio silence. In the middle of everything else, that worried me as well. As it turns out, it worried my father as well.  

     "It's an important client. A multi-million-dollar deal, competing with three other big names. This is her make-or-break moment. It's what I love about her...but I hope she's doing alright. I've never seen her so focused." 

     "Has she spoken to you at all?" 

     "Not a word, Dylan.  She'll be just fine; we'll know how she got on tomorrow evening." I hoped he was right. We kept watching television until we could see just the faintest hint of sunlight peer through, and my eyes got a little more difficult to keep open with every passing minute. It was a mistake to stay up for so long, and I was going to lag behind for the rest of the day. School was going to be a nightmare, I was going to have to face Thuman twice in one day, and it wasn't going to be pretty if I dozed off in the middle of one of his classes.  

     "Dylan. We have to talk." Dad switched the TV off, along with the light it provided. All that was left was the royal-blue from outside, just enough for me to make out the outline of everything in the living room. The sudden lack of sound made me anxious, my heart began to beat just a little bit quicker, I felt my pulse on my neck.  

     "I'm sorry for saying what I said. It wasn't my fault, it was just - " 

     "Dylan. It's OK. That's not what this is about... it's about Aaron." The very mention of his name made my blood run cold, my heart continued to beat erratically. I felt my face flush.  "We got news from Otker. It's not looking good." 

     "What do you mean, not looking good? It was never good!" 

     "It's worse than they thought, Dylan. They gave him a year, two years if he's extremely lucky." It was the way he said it – determined to deliver the bad news, fading to a whisper to soften the blow somehow – that got to me the most. My heart stopped beating, and that seemed to be even worse than just a few seconds ago. I struggled to breathe, it felt like somebody had knocked the air clean out of lungs. It didn't matter how much I inhaled; no air seemed to be getting inside me.  

     "Dad..." 

     "I'm sorry. They didn't want to tell you - "  

     "I'm his brother! I deserve to know things!" 

     "That's why I'm telling you now!" I knew that if I thought about that rationally, I'd understand. Still, I stood up, walked right up to the door, and fetched my thick wooly jumper and coat. By the time Dad had gotten up in response, I was already wrapped up, the door opened.  

     "Dylan! Get back right here right now! You have school soon!" 

     "I'm visiting him!" I cried, and shut the door behind me.  

* 

 

     I didn't know how I was going to go to the psychiatric center without a car at first, but that didn't matter. The bus would take me as close as it could, and I would walk the rest of the damn way if I had to. I wasn't going to school for the rest of the year. I wasn't going to see Jacob. I wasn't going to see Jordan. I wasn't going to come home and see how my mother had gotten on with her presentation. They'd understand. They'd all understand. I'd have plenty of time to see them after...  

     I was going to spend every waking moment with my brother, and I was going to be there right up until the very end. It was only right. It was the only thing I could do to make up for everything that had happened to him. It was all that kept me awake on that damn bus as it accepted me inside its doors. It was one of the earliest ones available, and its driver looked like she wasn't in the mood to be there, but change was change and she took it from my hand without a fuss. There were a few bums lying in the back, so I just chose the first seat on the right and never looked back. The thing took off again, and I was on my way. My phone predictably buzzed in my pocket, but I set it to mute. Next came the messages; the last one found Dad accepting what was happening, telling me to be home by dinner. After a few minutes of mulling it over, I told him that I would.

     The sky turned brighter every single minute; it was one of those things that you never seemed to notice. When you woke up it was either completely dark or it was bright, but there was something about that transition that signified something. I couldn't tell what that was right there and then, but I reclined further into my seat and just watched the road we traveled on.  

     The bus ended up on central road, and it wasn't really going to go any further. Credit where credit was due, the driver seemed to pick up a little since I last spoke to her, thanking me as I got out at my stop. It was cold, it seeped through my coat and into my skin. I shivered, watching the sun as it crept past the buildings and into the sky. There wasn't an ounce of cloud left, but the pavements were soaked from the previous night's rain. I started walking, because I knew where I needed to go. I could make out the shape of the center from here, but it still quite far away.

     I passed Nick's Truck on the way there – it was a recommissioned van parked in the lot, offering rolls and other breakfast items. The man at the counter asked if I wanted anything fancy. I told him that an egg roll would go down pretty well. Less than five minutes later, a roll was coiled around my fingers, and I carried on with my journey as I scoffed more than a thousand calories into my mouth. It grew gradually warmer over the next thirty minutes or so, but all I thought about was Aaron; how he felt, how he was going to face this disease now that the prognosis looked pretty grim.  

     A year. He could be gone by this time next year... 

     By the time I reached the gates I had warmed up completely, the empty packaging from my food tossed aside. I approached the security guards as they opened and closed the gates to incoming and outgoing traffic. They knew my face by now, and all I needed was my ID and previous visitor papers, and I was issued with a new one in seconds. I walked along, thanking them as I set off.  

     It was a short walk now, but every step seemed to remind me of just how serious this all was. I felt a lump in my throat, my cheeks were flushed in the same way they would whenever I felt like I was in trouble. All of that seemed to weigh my feet down, especially when I saw the entrance. I walked towards the same reception desk I've seen a hundred different times now, forcing a smile when I came up towards one of three different women who sat behind that desk at any given time.  

    "Hi, I was wondering if I could visit a patient? My brother, Aaron Weathers?" I asked, hoping my voice hadn't given away just how I felt. She recognized me easily enough - you really would if you visited this place as often as I had - I knew that we needed an appointment to see him, but there just wasn't enough time to do that. I hoped she understood.  

    "Of course, no problem." She responded sweetly, probably because she had seen my mug around the place so often. "He's in the patient dining room, I'll request a visit for you." 

    "Thanks." I caught the word request, obviously not a guaranteed thing, but that was really all I could do at that point. She gazed at the screen in front of her as she typed on the keyboard, leaving me to take a seat and rest my feet. I took a look at my shoes, a little annoyed once I found out there was a little hole at the very edge of the sole. I didn't have the money for new ones, and I really didn't feel like asking my Dad for money considering I had just stormed out of the house. When all of this was over, I was going to need to look for a weekend job to get a few dollars here and there.  

     "You're free to see your brother now." She added, after a few minutes of typing and staying silent. She reached for a day badge, and handed it to me, "He's currently heading to his room. Would you like directions?" 

     "I know where it is, thanks." I had the path memorized at that point. I thanked her for her time while she went and addressed a few more people as they came inside. The corridors were beginning to pack up a bit more, with both patients and nurses. As I walked through one of those blank corridors, I came across a poster that stretched across an entire section of wall, a Viking boat proudly emblazoned across it. It reminded me of when I was smaller, when I had a ridiculous interest in that time period. I remembered when my parents had bought me a copy of Granuaile from a little second-hand shop which had long since been discontinued. I read about that Irish queen for days on end, I wondered if Rongholdst had naval battles like that in their history, of if they had any bodies of water at all. I wondered why I never left that forest in the first place. Why did it take that girl to make me realize there was more out there?  

     I approached Aaron's room – and Dr. Otker emerged from the room, mildly surprised when he saw me.  

     "Dylan, a pleasure to see you!" He beamed, "I was only just made aware that Aaron was expecting visitors, is it just you visiting?" 

     "Just me," I replied, smiling sadly, "I just had to come in, especially with what you told Dad..." The Doctor's smile faltered for a moment, and it never properly returned.  

     "I understand. Well, he's feeling happy this morning. Feel free to head inside... and please disregard what happened yesterday. Aaron was overdue his medication, it wasn't your fault." I thanked him for telling me what was so clearly a lie for my benefit, nodding and smiling while the good man disappeared down the hallway. I peered through the door, catching the first glimpse of my brother. His hair was a state, and sheets of paper were scattered across the floor; nothing but half-finished drawing of buildings and people, all of them portraits of the same girl.  

     Sylvia.  

     "Hey," I started as clearly and loudly as I could so he would realize I was here. He stopped what he was doing as soon as he heard me, excited. He held his latest sketch lightly in his hand, I could tell that it was yet another attempt of Sylvia on his part.  

     "I know. I know about the girl." Aaron grinned when I mentioned that. He moved towards me, hugging me like we hadn't seen each other in a long time. He handed the sketch to me, and I tried my best not to crumple it with my fingers.  

     "Are...are you alright?" I didn't know what had happened since yesterday, but he didn't seem bothered by it at all. He giggled to himself, moving around the room as he looked for other drawings to show me. The doctors said that he had the mental age of a child, it was a little hard to take when the person in front of you was the same person you looked up to when you were a kid. I shoved that aside for the moment, spending as much time as I could as I played games with him and watched as time went by.  

     I talked to him about Rongholdst; I asked him if he'd seen some of that world, I also asked about Sylvia and if there was anybody else that he saw. All I got out of him were nods and shrugs at that point, but there really wasn't much I was expecting at that point. If I ever dreamed about her again, I wanted to ask about my brother, as well.  

     Still, I was told to expect his mental age to be that of a ten-year-old... but no ten-year-old spoke through giggles and groans. He was much worse than I thought, now that I knew what was going on. I teared up just thinking about it, but I turned away and buried my sleeve into my face before he could see.  

     "Hey Aaron...want to take a picture with me?" It was a spur of the moment decision, but how many more opportunities were they going to be? Edward was going to come home at some point, but after that...  

     His eyes lit up when I asked, and he nodded pretty damn quickly in agreement. At least he could still understand me. I took out my phone and held it at arm's length, making sure we were both caught in the frame. I stared at both of our faces, making sure my little smile was held together, and I snapped it perfectly. Aaron peered closely into it, laughing as he pointed at himself.  

     "We should take another picture together when Ed flies in, got it?" I suggested. We hadn't seen our older brother in months, but he was just as aware of what was going on as I was. Perhaps even more, because he threatened to come home as soon as he found out about all of this. Dad convinced him to stay put back then. I was sure that wasn't going to last much longer if he knew what the latest developments were.  

     I spent a few more hours in there, listening to what Aaron had to say and making it out as best I could. He sketched little drawings while I spoke to him a bit more about my dreams, and a bit more about Sylvia. I asked how he knew about her, but he couldn't come up with the right words to answer. I felt my phone vibrate as Dad tried to call, but I didn't have it in me to answer just yet. I knew I was in a world of trouble when I came back, but it didn't matter to me right there and then, not when I looked at Aaron. I could ask for Jacob to send me some homework if I absolutely had to go ahead with school, and they could come over to mine, but Aaron was my priority now.  

     I heard thunder grumble outside – what kind of weather front was hitting the States? - and I knew visiting hours were going to end sooner rather than later. When I told him I had to go, Aaron's lip quivered a little, but I promised him I would return tomorrow. He seemed happy with that. Otker came inside with dinner, and I thanked him for letting me come in on such short notice. He told me to take care out in the weather, and before I knew it, I was back in the corridors. It seemed especially dark now, even with the lights on. The air seemed...heavy somehow? I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I fetched my little umbrella from my bagpack, but it was nowhere near enough to keep that weather from soaking me. It was a good ten minutes of running before I was back out by the road, hoping and praying that some bus would show up sometime soon. Thankfully I saw one approach almost as soon as I made it to the stop, I shoveled myself inside as soon as the thing opened its doors for me. I sat down towards the back as it took off, back over the bridge and into the city. My phone buzzed again, but when I took a glance, I saw Jacob's number on the screen.  

     'Hello?'

     'Dylan, where are you? Your Dad just called me asking where you were, you're not answering your phone?'

     'What? He knew where I was going, damn it! Listen man I'm sorry about all of this.' 

     'It's fine...you good?' 

     'I'll tell you when we meet up.' I didn't know when that was, because I was damn sure I was going to be here tomorrow, and I wasn't in the mood to go and talk about Aaron right now, 'Forbidden Planet on the weekend? See what kind of comics are floating around?' 

     'You bet! I'm just glad you're alive. Talk soon!'

     I hung up, pressing my face against the window as we hit central Manhattan. We moved past 125th street, before I was dropped off by the Apollo theater. My feet hit puddles as soon as I stepped off, instantly soaking to my toes. It wasn't a nice feeling, but I gritted my teeth and carried on as I walked in front of the bus, looking for the right time to cross the road. The rain fell pretty heavily now, everybody was rushing from place to place. I ran towards the other side of the road, hoping to head to the nearest possible café and dry myself off before I had to face my Dad again.  

     That was when I spotted the set of lights swing from the right, far too quickly for me to do anything about it. One second, I was sprinting across the road. The next thing I knew, I was sailing through the air. I couldn't remember anything in-between; I couldn't recall the impact, and I couldn't feel the ground as I hit it. It was only after a few moments when I felt the pain, it crawled through my chest before spreading to my arms and legs. It hurt to breathe; I couldn't move anything. People gathered all around me, but I couldn't make out anything from the noise...  

* 

     I didn’t realize that my eyes were closed, so when I opened them again, I found myself back inside the forest of Rongholdst; the pixies were just as beautiful as ever, and they circled over me, creating spiral patterns as they flickered through the night. I sat up, clutching my best as I gasped for breath. I flexed my arms and legs, which seemed to work just fine.  

     The crash... I was hit by a car, wasn't I? I wasn't dreaming, so why was I here? Unless... 

     Unless I wasn't dreaming. Maybe I was here because... 

     I started to panic, I tried to control my breathing but it just wasn't working. The pixies floated closer, but they couldn't distract me. Had I died? Was I stuck here? What would that mean for my parents? They went through enough heartbreak as it was, what were they going to do when they heard about this?  

     What would Aaron think?  

     I stood up and I ran. I ran as far as I could with tear-filled eyes and disappeared in a random direction. The trees thinned out eventually, and the pixies stayed behind with them. I had to find Sylvia, I needed to find her and beg for her help.  

     I came across a lonely hut at the edge of a plain, smoke blowing through what amounted to a chimney. This had to be it, it had to be where Sylvia lived, and if it wasn't then at least it was a place to start. I knocked on the door again and again, and I didn't stop until somebody answered.  

     It was her.  

     "Dylan, what are you doing here?" She asked, peering back inside to keep track of whoever else occupied her home.  

     "You've got to help me," I pleaded, tearing up, "T-there's been an accident! I... I need your help!" 

     She was about to ask me why, but my arms were wrapped around her when I couldn’t keep it together any longer. She pulled me inside from the cold, shutting it behind her and offering us a degree of privacy.  

 

8: Apterch Ghtei

-Sylvia-

When I had returned home, I had Medea in shambles. One look at me was all it took to have her gripping at her sides, and keeling over with laughter. Her large blue eyes shut tight, as tears poured down he cheeks.  

Arlen had been startled from his workings with the mortar, crushing freshly picked herbs to create new balms and salves. He walked into the room, preparing to chide Medea into silence, looking quite upset from being interrupted. No doubt he had been eager to finish, though the noise made had not helped. Soon enough, he had realized just why it was his granddaughter had caused such an uproar.

With an irritable huff, I crossed my arms, reeking with the evidence of the flogging. Arlen merely smirked, a smug satisfaction could be felt emitting from him. He had always said I spent to little time practicing magic, it almost felt as though he had hoped I learned a lesson.

I did not blame my master for thinking so, I remembered so clearly when I had first arrived, standing before his door. A war raged within as a fear pricked at my heart. I had traveled much too far to turn back, yet the fear of the unknown, the one everyone tends to have.. it warned me into staying my hand. And so, there I had stood, wondering what to do with myself. I needn't had done much, as I had yelped in surprise from the old man standing behind me. He had a basket full of mushrooms and pennyroyal, I could even detect a hint of tobacco hiding beneath it all. He seemed irritated at my being there, though I would later come to realize that would be the norm.

"What do you want, girl?" He had asked me with a sneer. No doubt he had been trying to scare me off. Little did he know just how stubborn I could be. With nowhere to go but forward, I told him of why I had arrived. He hadn't even batted an eyelash, and turned me away. He called me weak, and said his secrets would be wasted on me. Of course that had hurt me, but it had not deterred me. And so, for a whole month, I had taken residence directly in front of his humble home, camping out, waiting for him every morning. And every morning he did come, scoffing at the sight of me, and storming off within the thickets parts of the forest. I would beg him every day, and every night. 

Then finally it had happened. When the moon was hidden behind the blackness of the dark clouds drifting with the promise of rain, he had come. It was when I had least expected it. Fully prepared to brave the rain for a night, I placed layer upon layer of clothes. All in attempts to keep warm. Rubbing at my arms, and hugging myself close, I searched for a reason to my suffering. For it was a suffering I hadn't any need to endure. The answer had been simple, and I saw little reason to make it any more complex than that: 

"To find more to life than what is shown.." came my whisper.

"Than let us shine light into the darkness." replied Arlen's voice. The rain softly pattered against the leaves of the the great oaks, masking my gasp. 

Yes, I deserved the pelting, and Arlen deserved the satisfaction he had felt then. After all, I had all but begged the man to teach me, and there I was squandering away the precious learning time given to us.

I offered no explanation. Stomping to the washing basin placed upon the table, I grabbed a ragged old washcloth and began to scrub every inch of me, Medea laughing all the while.

*

All had been peaceful that day. I had found time to meditate, which was much needed. I had lost quite a bit of rest thanks to the boy-- thanks to Dylan. The whole Satyr situation still displeased me, especially with how it turned out. Dylan had walked away freely, leaving a wonderful impression on the beast-king, where as I had been seen as a defiler, and a sneak. The sneak part had been my fault, it would be freely admitted, as I had tried to exit as court was still in session. It had been pushed to the very corner of my mind, but would always creep up every so often, just to remind me it was still lurking about.

I had managed to enjoy the rest of my day though, Arlen helped me with a bit of divination magic (which we had come to conclude was no forte of mine). Afterwards, he had taught me a simple healing spell. Though, I wasn't quite confident enough to try just then. Even if Medea offered to knick herself upon her dagger, to be used a doll of sorts. I couldn't quite bring myself to allow her to do it, and so I waved away her offer. Trying to seem as though it was more of an inconvenience to me, than it was help. She saw straight through my facade.

Medea had taken me berry-picking in the afternoon. We picked all the bushes unclaimed by the Pixies, neither of us willing to fight off a curse that day.

Yes, it had been a marvelous day. By the end of it, I had been so tuckered out that once the sun had gone, I was ready to do quite the same. My tiny corner of the hut had held my rough cot, which I had grown to love. And oh- did that little cot beckon me so, tempting me with the prospect of a proper nights rest.

Just as I was ready to lay myself down, I felt something all too familiar. I had conflicting feelings then, annoyance and excitement jumbled together. I looked to Arlen who, luckily, soundly snored away. Unfortunately Medea still lurked about the kitchen, preparing more of her bitter tea. 

I shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do next. Was I to go and look for him? He was none of my concern. Any yet, what I lie that was! He had something I wanted, and that was power. In no way did I intend to conquer the world, I just wanted to know what that power was, and how he had gotten it. 

Both Medea and I yelped slightly at the sound of the door being knocked upon. It rattled and shifted with each rap. 

I would like to say, that I had no idea just how it was Dylan had found his way so quickly to where I was. But there he stood, looking shaken and pale. I had only opened the door enough to peak through, and as soon as I had seen him, I quickly stepped in front, blocking Medea from spotting him. The girl had quite the imagination on her, and a late night rendezvous with a boy who came knocking on your door was quite the scandal. Even for me. As it was known, I carried little patience for much of anything, and preferred to keep Medea from spinning her little stories. My words came out in a cautious whisper, as I asked him what he was doing at the foot of my door. I craned my neck to check if Medea was still in the kitchen- she was. She was also still watching me, her blue eyes carrying that little gleam she got when thinking. I sent her a warning glance before looking back to Dylan.

He was in a panicked state, any fool could see it clearly. His hair was messy and windswept, and he panted heavily. Wide eyes flicking back and forth with fear and confusion.

"You've got to help me!" he was practically begging me. I would be a monster had I turned him away. He fell into me, almost causing the door to swing wide open. Luckily I worked fast enough to bar the door in place with a sturdy leg, and caught Dylan just in time. I was proud of that, though no one was quite in the state to congratulate my reflexive prowess. 

"Is everything alright?" Medea called. I grunted in reply, wanting to glare her way. She could clearly see something was not right. Focusing my attention instead on a distressed Dylan, I dismissed myself from the home, telling her that I would return upon dawn. 

Once outside, I pulled Dylan to his feet.

"What in the good Kings name is wrong with you?" The good King being the human King. The ruler of all of Rongholdst. Not the snobbish little Satyr that thought me a boy. Dylan dug both palms into his eyes, seemingly harrowed by the thoughts that plagued him so. Looking about us, I had seen the Pixies again. They stayed a respectful distance away from Arlen's hut. "I will take you somewhere special. Perhaps then, you will have had time to calm."

We walked in silence, in no need of a lantern as his beloved pets lit our way. 

There was a place only I had been privy to. The Satyr's had their meadows and mountain homes, the Pixies had their designated trees and bushes  (sometimes even claiming whole sections of the forest ), and I- I had my secret place. 

I had found one night, when Arlen had been exceptionally relentless. It was a day I had come to remember to both love and hate all at once. For I had ran away crying from how cruelly he belittled me, even though I was trying my best. He had yelled after me, telling me to get back to studying. I continued forward, unwilling to let him see the pain he had caused. Blinded by the tears, no particular direction had been chosen. It was unknown just how long I had ran, but when I could not push any further, I collapsed upon the mossy ground. It was damp with the early morning dew, and the usual autumn mist fell upon the forest. It had softened the air, clinging to everything it came into contact with. 

With my ear pressed against the mossy floor, I had come to hear whispers. They were not threatening in the least, although it did startle me. I had jolted up to sit upon my knees, wondering what had been the cause. I listened close once more, no sound greeted me then but the rustling of the dying leaves. The whispers had come from beneath.

Steeling my nerves, my ear was pressed to the floor once more. And then I heard it- sweet whispers, speaking about me.

She weeps, she weeps.. said the lovely voice, Let her weep no more..

With that, a root had lifted from within the tightly packed earth. It had gently placed me upon my feet, to which then, my gaze had been diverted to see the great oak afore me, part effortlessly, and with much grace. It had revealed a path, where freshly bloomed asters decorated its entirety. 

I had walked forward, glancing about in awe, birds of all kinds flew about with little care in the world. The end of the path had led me to a the bottom of a cliff, where a waterfall poured down freely. I glanced up, wondering how high it went.

The trees had closed behind me, and then the whispers came in a much stronger succession.

No longer will she weep.. Now let us sleep, let us sleep.

I had told no one of that encounter, nor had the urge to share that lovely place ever present itself. Though I had need to know of what it was that had comforted me so sweetly. I had asked Arlen, once I had returned, if any other creatures had roamed the forest.

"Once, long ago," he had said, "there were the tree spirits. They were known as the Dryad's. This was centuries ago.. but they had gone to sleep, and have not woken since. No one knows the reason why."

And yet they woke for me, to comfort me with the gentleness of a mother.

I had hoped that my special place would comfort Dylan as it had comforted me. I was no Dryad to lead him there so sweetly, but I yet hoped for it to come as some relief.

The trek there had seemed to make quiet of his panic, though his face was yet riddled and contorted with worry. Forgetting myself, I spoke out.

"Do not worry so." I reassured, to which he could only reply with a tight, halfhearted smile. 

We finally had come upon the oaks for which we searched. I announced myself, and they parted willingly. I could see Dylan's face change into awe as they shifted to make way. The Pixies let themselves right in. 

Where once there had been aster to sit upon the path, it had been replaced with precious little snowdrop flowers. Even I had to stop and admire it all over again, especially with the light of the moon and Pixies dancing gracefully above.

"What is this place?" Dylan gaped.

"My special place, I told you." With that, I tugged on the sleeve of his strange clothing, pulling him towards the roaring waterfall that could be heard echoing in the distance.

We sat upon two great stones near the pool of water. No fire was needed, for the air was laced with magical essence, keeping us quite warm, and the Pixies provided a fair amount of light.

'I had an accident.' Dylan spoke, "Sylvia what's going to happen to me? My Mom-- my Dad? I think I.. but no I couldn't have!"

His words were scattered, his thoughts interrupted by new ones, filled with much anxiety. How easily his face was read. I only wished I could understand what he had been trying to say. I had not voiced my confusion, in my mind I had not wanted to further the burden he had placed upon his shoulders. Whatever that was..

"Please, surely whatever accident happened was simply a dream? Other wise, how would you be sitting here speaking of it to me?" I tried to rationalize the situation. He only shook his head furiously, looking around the location I had placed so close to my heart.

"Don't you get it? This is the dream, this place!" he paused a moment, his eyes glazing over. Was he remembering something? "At least.. it's supposed to be.." he threw his hands in the air in a show of exasperation. "I just don't know anymore."

From the way he hid his face behind his hands, I guessed I had been of little consolation. Surely there must had been something I could do to alleviate him? Besides bringing him to such a beautiful place to find sanctuary.. I frowned at the lack of appreciation he had towards the scenery. Of course I knew he had troubles burdening him then, but surely.. 

I shook my head, there was a time and place for my mood to change. And it had been neither the time nor place for it then. 

"Where is your home?" 

"What? Oh.. I doubt you'd know it." He responded. So he hailed from a small place, unmarked on the map? Similar to me.

"My home hasn't a name to it either. I like to think it a secret dear to me, almost as much as the place we yet rest."  I looked to the waterfall with a content sigh. Oh, how I wanted to prod him for more information, though I doubted it to be appropriate then. But when would I ever be able to meet with him, and find an appropriate time to drag out all his secrets? Every meeting we had, something would always find its way to interrupt! I started my questions off small, not wanting to frighten him into silence. 

"Do you have siblings? I remember you making mention of a brother?" The one he claimed I knew. He seemed to remember that instance as well, but disregarded it as I had.

"I have two brothers, Edward and Aaron."

"Dylan, Edward, and Aaron. Those are fine names." I complimented offhandedly, "Any other family?"

"Well.." his nose scrunched in distaste, "There is my Aunt.." I could share his displeasure in aunts. My thoughts drifted back to when I had to help mine deliver my cousin, I could never quite look her in the eye after that.. 

I continued to prod him with simple questions;

What are your parents names?

What do they do?

What do you do? ( He seemed to be a student, we had that in common )

I asked him for the names of his teachers, to my surprise, he had a lot! With names so foreign to me, I did not even attempt to repeat them. They had designated specialties, teaching him of some things I had never heard before. And so I began to ask him more of what he had learned from school, which led me to believe he had been something akin to an Alchemist of some sort.

All the talk of school seemed to make his eyes droop in fatigue, and soon I felt myself succumbing to it as well. The Pixies began to circle above us, and sing a beautiful melody, casting their sleeping spell upon us. It was a rare privilege to hear them sing, and I had never dreamed off the day I would hear their notes in the air.

They must have been entranced with his mere presence!

I would have told Dylan more about Pixie songs, had he not fallen asleep so suddenly. Yearning to fall find peace as well, I laid myself upon the thick grass. Dylan would be gone, come the 'morrow, and he would soon see that all would be well..

Dylan would be gone.. 

this was not a thought I had fully come to take in. Fighting the Pixies enchantment, I sat up, looking at the rucksack he had been carrying. I made sure he would not awake before sifting through its contents.

"Dylan?" I whispered. Only his deep, steady breaths greeted me. Quickly, I reached inside, pulling the first thing I had come into contact with out. A sheet of paper slid out easily, and on it was my face. I looked much more beautiful on the paper than in real life, this cause me to frown. But the drawing itself.. now that was something to behold. Whoever had drawn it had been careful, making sure each stroke had meaning. They seemed light and feathered, the shadowing placed in such a way that brought out my best features. I knew how conceited it all sounded, but.. whoever had drawn it, I knew could only be the kindest person one would ever meet. My fingers brushed against the sheet, running along each shape.

Then bode the question: Why did Dylan have a drawing of me?

Before I could place the drawing back from where I had found it, I fell into a deep sleep.

9: Apterch Neni

Days & nights wore on as he continued his journey, traveling through the towns, the streets, the cobbled paths his family used to own. Nature had reclaimed stone, weeds & vegetation wrapped around whatever they could, until Ozwalt could barely distinguish them with his own eyes. Phoenix was a land which no longer had a figure to maintain it, & he realized that if no man would step up to the role, then nature would take their place. 

But nature was far from this man's mind, & he gritted his teeth & braved the elements, whether trivial or no. 

Now, the towns no longer featured the vibrant mix of creatures which made the land such a close-knit community. Only humans resided inside their dwellings, & Ozwalt could see that their faces were etched with the same worry & fatigue which plagued his own, their thoughts not on living, but surviving. He stopped a young fellow along his travels, his back hunched from carrying coal from place to place, his face and hands covered in the stuff. Ozwalt asked if he had seen the man he was looking for, to which he replied "Nay". However, he spoke of a claim to the fact that he too was tricked by one who promised him a cure for his condition, an elixir which promised to rectify what years of labor had done. He awoke one day after taking such an elixir, & realized he had been tricked. 

Ozwalt promised him that he would have his chance for revenge, if he followed him. The boy replied "Aye!" 

He was too young to remember what had happened to their land, too young to remember that life was not as difficult even to those who resided among the servant class. Ozwalt instructed him to drop the coal to the ground, & to ready himself for the journey ahead. He knew not of where he was going, but he knew that his plan for revenge could soon morph into something else. Something grand...

-"The World of Phoenix & its Origins" - Chapter 5-

 

-Dylan-

My eyes could only flutter awake for seconds at a time, but every single time I could I managed to gather more and more information about the room I was lying in. 

The walls were grey, completely inoffensive yet bland, the smell of antiseptics heavy in the air. My vision turned black for a sustained period of time, only for me to fight back and attempt to put the pieces together as to what I was doing here. My mind felt groggy, an enormous effort needed to focus on anything at any one time, and when I did my concentration evaporated instantly. I noticed people passing outside, but my eyes were never quick enough to keep track of them. My entire body hurt, ranging from a dull throbbing on my right leg, all the way to a full-frontal assault raging inside my ribcage.

And that was when everything clicked - I was knocked down. I was in hospital. I was here.

I couldn't feel my arms or legs move along to my commands. They hung limply on the bed I was lying in, refusing to budge. This panicked me even more than my fragmented concentration, and no attempts of keeping my eyes awake were successful. 

Dylan...Dylan..Dylan...

That - That was Aaron. What was he doing here?

I couldn't find him, no matter how hard I kept my eyes open long enough to look. I attempted to move my head, but it remained as paralyzed as the rest of my body. No-one seemed to notice that I was conscious - If I was inside a hospital, surely a member of staff would walk in periodically to check on me? That was how that worked, right?

Dylan...Dylan...Dylan...Dylan...Dylan...

I wanted to call out my brother's name, to try and get him to come closer to me, to help me, but all I got in response were stifled mumbles of mine whenever he stopped whispering my name. Eventually, after an eternity of waiting, someone managed to open the door to my room, walking inside so I could catch a better view of the doctor. His face was familiar, and in my frozen state it took me a couple of seconds to piece together who it was - but he spoke even before I had reached that conclusion. 

"Dylan will be with you tomorrow Aaron, but you must rest until the morning. Look, it's not even daytime outside!"

Dylan...Dylan...Dylan...Dylan...Dylan...

My head - my brother's head - turned slightly to stare outside the now-familiar window, and the darkness that remained outside. The walls were not grey at all, it was simply what his room looked like at night. I could see the sketches, the TV, and Otker's face looking right at me. 

Dylan...Help...Dylan...

*

My eyes snapped awake abruptly to the same sights and sounds of the meadow I fell asleep in - I never woke up back in New York. 

I was warm, pleasant sunshine hitting my cheeks as I stood up, stretching my legs and searching for my bag - only to see that Sylvia had rummaged through it. Aaron's picture rested in her hands, slightly crumpled. A few more notebooks were strewn around her, some of them opened, some of them not. 

She looked through my stuff without asking me? Who did she think she was?

I didn't care, the dream I had was pressing on my consciousness far too much. Was it even a dream? Could it have been real? My mind was far too jumbled to make any sense of it all. Why would my brother feel the injuries I had sustained in the crash? Was I still alive back there, not in Rongholdst but in New York? I must have been rushed to hospital by now, I could only imagine my parent's shock and disbelief at what had happened. 

Sylvia hoped that this place would calm me down - but I was far from calm. 

I had just packed the last few items into my bag when she stirred, turning towards me before her eyes opened, first in confusion, spreading into full-fledged concern.

"You...you remain here? Why did you not vanish?" She muttered hoarsely, suddenly realizing that she was holding onto her drawing. "I didn't mean to pry, I just found this and -"

"It's...Aaron drew it for you. He wanted you to have it."

She was taken slightly aback by this, glancing at herself within the blank sheet of paper. 

"Your...your brother is too kind!"

"Have you ever seen him before? Has there been anyone who appears and vanishes just like me?" I questioned, hoping that my brother may yet be a way out for me. I was left disappointed when my companion shook her head in response, continuously staring at the drawing in confusion. 

"I have not. You are the only one who possesses such magic!"

I was beginning to grow a little tired of her assumption that I somehow wielded magic, yet I kept my agitation in check. This world was hers, not mine. 

"Maybe if I show you a picture of him, perhaps you would be able to make out whether or not you've seen him then?"

She seemed puzzled by this, so I grabbed my phone from my pocket, switching it on and scrolling through my pictures. She stepped back slightly when she saw the device in my hands, and I realized that my phone must have looked bewildering to someone who had never come across an electronic device in her life. Undeterred, I moved closer to her, and even though she was as afraid of the phone as ever, she held her ground, forcing herself to glance at the screen and the picture of Aaron and I inside it. She relaxed as soon as she realized nothing lethal would come about from it, and spent several seconds scrutinizing the picture before she sighed, her shoulders hunched in disappointment. 

"I'm sorry - I have never seen him."

"Then how does he know about you?" I pressed, agitated that the small hope of finding my brother again had vanished. I shoved my phone inside my pocket again, hefting my bag over my shoulders and ready to depart. 

"Wait! Where are you going?" She cried behind me, rushing towards me until we were walking side by side. The trees surrounding us were frozen now, the sound of the waterfall falling on ignorant ears. Only when she asked me this did I realize that I was hopelessly, completely lost. I needed her help to go...God knows where. I slumped to a halt immediately, and Sylvia was quick to look into my eyes, to try and wrest the reason why I was feeling down right out of my soul. 

"You're going to return to your home. We just need to find out where to go." 

"I severely doubt I can get home from here." I replied, closing my eyes and calming myself down before I lost it completely. 

"Your transportation spell, why can you no longer - "

"It's not a transportation spell!"

The trees rustled slightly as the air suddenly turned bitter, blowing in from the south and sending shivers coursing down the length of my spine. I buried my hands in my face, collapsing to the ground and intending on staying there until I had figured out the answer. To my surprise, I found Sylvia sitting down right alongside me, staying silent but watching me just in case I moved or spoke. I got the feeling that she didn't know what to say or do, but then again, there wasn't much she could do right now. I was stuck in a world which made no sense to me, a world I had thought was limited to pages and letters. 

I should have been excited, but after what had happened...

"Perhaps...Arlen could be of help to you?" Sylvia pondered, staying right as she was as her face frowned in concentration. "He located you easily enough, and if he can locate your brother..."

"...Then he'll be able to know how to get to him, to get back home!" I concluded in a rush of sudden excitement. I found myself on my feet again, Sylvia struggling to stand on her own by the time I rushed through the forest, leaving our secret haven behind. I didn't know how, but as we carried ourselves further away from the waterfall behind our backs, the rush of water seemed to intensify - until it vanished abruptly as the forest trees surrounded us. A pillar of shaggy smoke could be seen right ahead, and I dashed towards the source as quickly as I could, my companion trying her best to keep up. We reached the hut eventually, small and diminutive and quite literally in the middle of nowhere, with no pavement or road to its name. I slowed my pace as I reached its walls, enough for Sylvia to overtake me and open the door before us, searching for the hermit inside. I stepped into the kitchen, and immediately thought of my father, and his reaction to the dismal scene of pots and pans and herbs before me. This place was the exact opposite to the lush Manhattan apartment I enjoyed back home. 

I found Sylvia in the next room, and I just about to peer inside when the old man broke through the entrance, impatient and agitated. He carried a sorry list of dated parchments in his left hand, a singular block of firewood in the other. It appeared that he had just returned from collecting them for the fire tonight. He took one look at me and groaned, he was far from a conversing mood, it seemed. 

"And what do you want?" He spat, shoving me aside as he grabbed a handful of herbs on the nearest table, placing the pages there instead. 

"We need your help." Sylvia responded, moving towards the hut's entrance so there was no escape plan. "We need you to aid us in finding someone."

"Is he not the boy who troubled you so much? Why should you help him? Why should I help him? He has nothing of value to me"

"Actually - I do." I interrupted, reaching my fingers into my bag and allowing my fingers to grab the first book that came to them. I found myself handing the hermit my History book - not a bad choice, when all was said and done. 

"And just what is this?" He muttered, peering over the cover and focusing on the man staring right back at him. I never really liked Adolf Hitler gracing the cover of the book, and I hoped dear Arlen didn't form any sort of attachment towards him. 

"This...documents the history of my world, from the Roman Empire all the way up to the present day. It's yours if you could help me."

He skimmed through the movement, pursing his lips and staring at the words in amazement as he studied the rise of Stalin and the Communists inside Russia. 

"They relied on weapons, and not magic? Impressive..."

"Does that mean you can aid us?" Sylvia interrupted, her patience growing thin. She repeatedly stamped her foot lightly on the wooden floor to emphasis this, and Arlen nodded sagely, placing my book on the floor as he sat down to join it. 

"Aye, but I must not be disturbed when I perform the Divination spell!"

I reached into my pocket, retrieving my phone and searching for the picture Aaron and myself. 

"Here, maybe this would help."

To his credit, the hermit showed no signs of puzzlement or fear that my companion showed when she saw the device for the first time, and wrapped his fingers around it, staring intently at the two faces staring right back. 

"Aye, it will help if I knew what he looked like - what does he suffer from?"

I had to admit, I was slightly taken aback by what he said.

"E...excuse me?"

"Your brother, he is gravely ill, a condition even the finest magical remedies would fail to rectify. You want to cherish his final moments, don't you?"

I wasn't so used to people reading me like an open book, but everything Arlen had said was right - every letter of it. 

"The spell?" Sylvia reminded him, just as troubled as I was, judging from the way she stared at me, judging every micro expression I pulled in case anything her master had said was too much. He nodded in contentment, placing himself on the ground below our feet.

I stood as far away from him as the confines of this hut would allow, and he immediately closed his eyes, intense focus taking over. For a second I actually thought he had stopped breathing, and for a number of moments silence filled the normally-rustling air, almost as if everything outside had stopped in order to facilitate the old man's spell. Sylvia and I exchanged glances, mine to show my worry and hers to attempt to calm me down. Arlen's face turned a brighter shade of red with every passing moment, veins popping on the side of his head as his silent breathing suddenly became erratic. His hands coiled to fists, white-hot at the knuckles, and his mouth opened and snapped shut repeatedly, arcane words escaping his lips every so often. I was about to rush to his aid, to snap him awake and stop what was happening, but Sylvia pulled me right back, reminding me of his order not to disturb him. Quite suddenly, unexpectedly, he opened his eyes, his pupils completely dilated before the light returned them to their original size. Almost as if someone had turned on a switch, the wind began to blow through the gentle leaves outside, everything returning to normal just as it did before.  

"Did you find him?" I asked breathlessly, the urge to know just too overwhelming to ignore or withhold any longer. 

"Nay, I did not."

Arlen struggled to rise to his feet, breathless and exhausted. It looked like he was about to collapse again, so Sylvia and I held our arms out for him, carrying him to the nearest chair while she fetched some water for his chapped lips. It was obvious that performing the spell took an enormous amount of energy from him, his face was no devoid of any color - a far cry from the blushes of red I had seen color his cheeks just a few short minutes ago. 

"You may keep your book, I do not deserve it." He continued in between sips, obviously shaken from his failure. It was a safe bet that he had never experienced something like this before, I wondered what that must have felt like. 

"No, you keep it. It is more use here than it is with me. "

I stood up and left the hut before he had a chance to argue the case further, just far enough so I could feel the sun bathe across my face. It whispered softly through the trees, a bright and optimistic day waiting for me when I was anything but bright and optimistic. I could see birds swirl above my head, but they were different from anything I had ever seen back home. They were huge, easily larger than I was even from so high, their long tails arcing gracefully as they soared through the sky. It took me a moment to see them clearly enough and to discover what they were, but when I did...

"Impossible." Sylvia muttered, re-joining me outside in the miniature plain. "Oenixph usually hibernate at this time of the year, why do they awaken now?"

Her name for the creatures was complex, something I would have trouble thinking, let alone speaking out loud, but I knew them as Phoenix. Both of them continued their circle, beautiful and mystifying all at the same time.

"I'm really sorry Arlen could not locate your brother...perhaps there is something that could take your mind off of things?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me, even when I knew nothing would ever supersede my worries of making it back home. 

"Well, since you reside here, you might as well take advantage of all the commodities around. There is an enormous festival taking place in the neighboring town, the Stival fo Ghtli, we could make it there by nightfall if we go now. I will let Arlen know that I will be traveling with you...if that is what you wish?"

If I was perfectly honest, it wasn't something I was pretty keen on experiencing right now, but she had a point. It didn't seem like I was going anywhere anytime soon, and maybe I did need to let everything go for just a day or two...

"That would be great, thank you."

She smiled, returning to the hut to inform the old hermit as I continued to stare into the sky, and the birds who owned it. 

10: Aptherch Nte

-Sylvia-

Dylan gazed up to the fire-birds with such awe. Had he truly never gazed upon a Oenixph before then? Surely he must have had some where he had come from? I couldn't help but smile at his reaction, whatever the case. 

When I had returned into the hut Arlen had already been busy sifting through the book Dylan had gifted him. Someone was eager. It slightly reminded me of when I had first began my studies. Every night when Arlen would go to sleep, I would sift through his Grimoire and try to remember each incantation. I knew he had known of my little snooping sessions, I just didn't know how he came to know of them. But every morning we would wake up, and he would place down a wooden bowl of gruel in front of me with a knowing smirk. He would watch me eat a few bites before asking if I had learned anything new. I was no prodigy, and the only real magic I had learned was one for light, and a small barrier spell. Even then, those never lasted more than a minute. This disappointed Arlen, he always wanted someone to succeed him. He just hoped it would have been someone more spectacular than I could ever be, and unfortunately for my poor old master, it had been I that dropped into his lap.

"Look here, Sylvia!" My master waved me over without glancing my way. Obviously the book had been more engaging to him than he previously expected. "Look at these strange pages! What parchments can make pages like these?" I took the book from his hands, examining it for myself. It was true, the paper was of a strange make. It was sleek, and glinted by the light of the fire. 

"How odd." I commented. By then, I had seen much more than strange pages in a book. So that subject was sure to occupy little of my mind. Arlen tore the book from my hands with his usual scowl.  Something further had been plaguing his mind, I could see the thoughts practically prancing about over his mind, taunting him and providing no answers. He ran his long fingers through his white hair in contemplation. 'What's more,' he began, "When you had asked me to first look for him, I could not."

"And?" I questioned. He looked at me as if to call me an idiot.

"And just now, when he asked me to search fer' his brother.. You know my magic, Sylvia."

"I do. You are the most powerful sorcerer I have ever met." I wasn't flattering the old man, nor would I ever care to. What I spoke of was the truth, and all the occupants of the forest knew it too. I briefly wondered if that was why they respected him so much.

"Exactly, my spells never fail. Never."

Perhaps it had been time to move on from that topic of conversation. He grew more agitated by the second, I couldn't have my master dropping dead due to stress before I learned everything from him, now could I?

"I would like your permission to travel into town."

"What fer? We do not need any supplies." his eyes dashed back and forth, as he read each line on the page he thumbed. "You also neglected yer' studies, no, going into town will be a waste of time."

"I would like to see the Stivalfe fo Ghtli." at this, Arlen had shut the book closed with excessive force. A loud thud shot throughout the hut. 

This is going swimmingly.. I thought to myself. 

"Yer were never interested in the festival last year." He eyed me up and down. He was analyzing me,  this caused a familiar wave of irritation. With a huff, I crossed my arms across my chest. At that point I had felt little urge to give him a reason.

"It is that boy," he pointed to the door, knowing that Dylan stood awaiting my return. "Is it not? Do you not think he has already taken up a lot of yer' time, Sylvia?" I shrugged. What was the harm in him taking a little bit more? He was a nice lad, and he seemed to be in distress. Plus the secrets he held..  "Do what you'd like, then! But when you return, expect no rest. You will be training vigorously!"

"So, you mean…"

"Aye, you may go." Arlen returned to his book, ignoring the largest grin he would ever likely receive from me. If he was not Arlen, and I was not Sylvia, an embrace surely would have been in order. Alas, we were who we were, and so I simply made my way to the shabby door.

"Thanks, old man!" I called as I stepped out. I could only hear him grumbling something about me being disrespectful, but that didn't mask the obvious smirk that could be heard accompanying that as well. 

Stepping out, Medea had already graced Dylan with her presence. They were smiling, speaking to each other about a topic they both had seemed interested in. I cleared my throat, gaining their attention. 

"Sylvia!" a feral smile plastered onto her face, and I knew what was coming. "You never told me you found someone who could finally steal your heart!"

"What?" Dylan looked between the two of us. He looked a bit bewildered. I waved away any fear he might have had then. I didn't want him to be locked between a woman's feud. 

"Who do you think you speak of, Medea? Dylan is special. If you trained to harness your magic as Arlen advised, you would be able to feel just how special he truly is."

"Funny you should say! As it seems you have been neglecting your training as well." she quipped, relishing the glare I sent her way. She was quick to move on thereafter, "Our special Dylan here told me you were headed into town. Going to see the Stivalfe fo Ghtli, are you?"

"We might-"

"We are." Dylan answered, making sure to give Medea a polite smile. Obviously he wasn't fond of the tension, even if it was normal for Medea and I. He also pointedly ignored how my glare shifted in his direction. Dylan was nice, that much was clear. Though somewhere, deep beneath all that.. I felt someday something within him would snap. Whoever was on the receiving end of it all would need to get on their hands and knees and pray to whatever God they believed in for aid.

They became fast friends, such was the gift Medea had. She was good with people, and was able to put them at ease just by flashing that lovely smile of hers. 'Did you want to come along?' 

"Oh! How kind of you to ask, Dylan. I would love to." she headed back inside, making sure to grab her sword. That blasted weapon of hers became something of a security blanket to her. Unfortunately it had quite the opposite effect on me. Sometimes when I would be practicing my craft, she would take to practicing her own. I would often hear the whooshing sounds behind me, and fear one day her grip on that blasted blade would slip. Surely she would gut me straight in the back! That was what I feared every time she had that damned sabre, which she affectionately referred to as Guardian. A silly name, for a silly girl playing swords. I always told her not to flick it about as carelessly as she did, which she would only laugh at. Medea made sure to swing it more furiously than before, just to taunt me! She'd laugh and say,

Oh, Sylvia. Even if I did, all I'd have to do is say I love you, and then you would forgive me!

Unfortunately, it was true.

* 

We walked along the bumpy tracks left behind by carriages and caravans traveling the same way. There were many holes filled with mud, and I had been half tempted to push Medea into them. I glared into their backs as they walked ahead, speaking fondly upon Knights and the Oenixph. Hardly interesting, if they were to ask me. They hadn't.

It quite annoyed me, my old friend was becoming chummy with my new one! And where did that leave me? Trailing after them like a lost lap dog, looking for some affection! Quite the opposite manner I was trying to present myself as.

"Where I come from, they're known as a Phoenix."

Medea raised an eyebrow at the odd term for the fire-birds. It was strange how we could understand each other so well, yet out languages seemed so different. Just where exactly did he come from? He never had truly specified. 

"What a stupid name." I grumbled, ruining my ploy of pretending I held no interest in their conversation.

'From the legends I know, they're said to be able to live for centuries, before burning up into a pile of ash.'

"And did you know that they are reborn from those very ashes?"

"I did! I'm just really excited I got to see one for myself.." his eyes shifted into a faraway look. Was he thinking of his home again? His brother? He looked so sad, it troubled me to see one as young as I look so harrowed. It wasn't right, he was like those soldiers who would return home from a war, living as changed men. They often recalled the horrors they had seen, gaining the same look he held. What horrors had Dylan known that I was not privy to? Our lives were quite different, I had never known loss, nor death. My family was always there for me, and had I ever chosen to return, they would surely welcome me back with open arms. Dylan was different though, he seemed almost .. empty. That kindness he showed was only a mask to hide the seemingly endless abyss he carried within. 

"What is your home like, Dylan?" I found myself asking before I could stop. He glanced back, a small smile gracing his face. That was an improvement, I supposed. After all, that trip was meant to brighten his dampened spirits.

"There are buildings towering far higher than any castle. The air there is so.." He inhaled, "…not like this. You can smell the life here. Not like where I come from." The way he described it sounded so dreadful to me, as though what he inhaled was poison.

"You spoke of teachers, before!" I hastened my steps, shoving in between him and Medea. "Of a Gandalf and Dumbledore. Did they teach you?"

"What odd names." said Medea. I had to agree, they sounded much more bitter than any herb Arlen preferred to use. I shuttered at the thought of mugwort. Dylan let loose a simple laugh, shaking his head. 

"They're not real, they're characters from a story. I wish they were my teachers. The ones I got are more grouchy than anything, if I'm being honest."

"Ah, much like Arlen." I nodded, feeling as though he had a specific teacher in mind. "Dylan, may I see that picture holder you have?"

"Picture holder?" he thought a moment, "Oh, you mean my phone?" Medea and I shared a look, he always had the oddest words coming out of his mouth. He was a foreigner, through and through. There would be no denying it then. 

"May I see your.. phone?" The word was so difficult to get out of my mouth, even if it flowed smoothly. He dug around in his pockets, pulling out the phone. He tapped on it a few times, gliding his finger upon its face. 

"Here." I took it eagerly, staring at it in awe. What was it for? How was it used? Was it magic? It couldn't have been, I would have felt some sort of essence flow through it. Medea pressed into me, lacing her arm through mine to get a better look at it as well. 

"What is it for?" she gaped, voicing my question.

"Well, where I'm from everyone has it. If you're ever in trouble, or you just want to talk.. you just find their information and you can get in contact with them."

"Like a messenger bird?" both Medea and I queried. It would have bothered me if I wasn't so busy being intrigued by the strange little thing. It seemed to have so much power. 

"I guess? You can also take pictures, and videos--" he stopped, noticing our confused gazes. There he went again, with another strange word. "Videos are.. Here, I'll just show you." I passed the phone back reluctantly. I wanted to study it a bit more, maybe even keep it. But It seemed much too important to give away so simply. So after a bit of tug of war being played, he finally retrieved what was rightfully his. He expertly sifted through the phone once more, before tapping it and passing it back. Medea and I jumped back at the clear sound that came so smoothly.

It started with Dylan dressed in different clothes, looking much fresher than the ones he wore. He was smiling that sad smile of his, walking down sleek white halls that were as bright as if the sun itself shone within the building. I could hear him speaking with someone, who struggled to form sentences. They were talking about building a puzzle together once returning to the room they were directed in. The one beside him I recognized almost instantly. It was Aaron, and then my thoughts shifted back to Arlen asking what it was that ailed his brother. A sickness magic could never fix. The video ended then, leaving me feeling quite hollow. Was this why Dylan was the way he was? Such sorrow such as his would never be understood by someone like me.

Just what sort of place did he hail from? What sort of power did his people hold, to be able to capture a moment in time so sufficiently? How did Aaron know me? 

I felt the fear I had felt when first meeting Dylan return to me then. In silence I returned his contraption, and slowly fell behind them once more. Allowing Medea to bombard Dylan with further questions, and allowing myself time to ponder further upon just about everything strange occurring.

We had walked but two miles along the same road, passing a sea of olive trees planted as far as the eye could see. They hadn't been growing much as the colder seasons came into fruition, sporting only a few of the said fruit upon their branches. Their trunks twisted around as they sprouted proudly from the floor. It was as I admired them that I began to feel a shift in the winds-- a warning ringing through to my heart. It was either that or the shadows I saw moving about the sea of trees. 

I stopped, squinting to get a better look at what it could have been, only to have an arrow whiz pass, grazing my cheek. My hair fluttered with the rush of air that accompanied it.

"Bandits!" I called, seeing five men emerge. They were burly men, red from the over extended periods of time they would stand in the sun during summer. They wore sleeveless tunics, allowing us to see their large muscled arms, a threatening tactic that was very affective. Their faces covered by ragged bandanas, dyed the color red with a silver trimming. Those were the colors of a notorious group in local parts. For the most part they stuck to stealing from rich who would travel by caravan past these parts. I wondered why they had their eyes set on us? Perhaps times were slow, and they would accept any old person to steal from. Maybe it was Dylan's phone they saw, I knew I wanted to steal it for myself as well.

Their bows were dropped in exchange for poorly made spears. Medea pushed Dylan back, as she drew her rapier, taking her stance as they rushed towards us. 

I held out a shaky hand as one thrust his weapon forward towards me, sneering all the while beneath his bandana. I could see part of his mutton chops peek through the cloth. A small blue light formed around my hand, and as it made contact, it rippled like the waters of a lake being disturbed by a stone. The impact shot back to the bandit, flinging him onto his rear. He sat in the pool dazed by my spell. An extra side effect I had not known it to have, as I never truly used it in combat before then. I didn't mind. I turned to see another coming towards me, I had little energy left  to summon another barrier, so instead I blinded him with a flash of light. He rubbed at his eyes, abandoning his spear to gain some sort of vision. It was a futile attempt.

Somehow, Medea had knocked the other three unconscious, and had finished just in time to do the same to the blinded bandit. I let my arms fall to my side in relief, huffing in annoyance as my tranquility was disturbed. After that, I would need a whole night to meditate by myself! I already had enough negative energy inside of me as it was, there spout of tomfoolery held no place around me.

"Are you alright?" Medea asked me in concern. I waved her away, looking back at the poor sods who dared crossed her path. She turned to Dylan, "Are you okay?" she asked once more. He nodded, not removing his eyes from the bandits. Apparently it had been his first battle as well, which would explain why he did little to help. Medea sheathed her blade once more, and led us forward towards the town. "Come on, we're almost there."

We had walked a couple more miles before coming upon hedges made of laurel that ran along the entire perimeter of the town. 

"Where's the entrance?' asked Dylan. Not wanting to walk much more, I pushed passed them, shoving my way through the hedge."

11: Apterch Evenel

"There was one night which Ozwalt would not soon forget, & it arrived wrapped in the full moon. 

Both he & his newfound ally were no warriors, but sheer determination carried the former Prince to continue off into the wilderness, beckoning his companion to follow. On their travels, he spoke of who he was: he was gifted the name 'Isacian' by his mother - a woman who passed away shortly after. His father blamed his newborn son for her death, resenting him as he changed from baby to child to man. Through the darkness of the setting sun he recited the evening when his parent - intoxicated with ale - reached for his axe, intent on revenge. 

Unfortunately for him, the young lad still had his wits about him, easily prizing the weapon from his opponent's hands...& swinging it himself until the metal was stained red. 

Ozwalt had befriended an innocent-looking murderer. Isacian simply smiled at the night sky, continuing his journey alongside him. He spoke of how the attack occurred long before his back had been soured by the weight of his hard work. It made Ozwalt realize that he must not have been as youthful as he appeared. 

So they continued trekking, moving through the beaten track through thick forests, forests which housed any number of natural predators. The Prince's companion had fetched his lantern as he departed from his own crumbling dwelling, & it kept them on the right track as they continued their search for the individual they were after. 

A noise, resounding from the treetops, made it clear that just because they were hunters, did not mean that they could not be hunted..."

-"The World of Phoenix & its Origins" - Chapter 6 - 

-Dylan-

They handled the bandits so calmly - but my heart was racing the entire time. 

We left them behind, but what was stopping them from regrouping and tracking us down? They were far from the only ones I bet. I only hoped Medea and Sylvia were as proficient with magic as they had been during our first encounter. 

"Where's the entrance?" I asked impatiently, moving ahead of our group and brushing aside the nearest thornberry bush alongside Sylvia. Of course, as soon as I did this, I received my answer. My jaw fell, and I had to remind myself that this was not a dream. 

The town stood on an island, a rather mountainous one at that, yet every square area was covered by an array of brick housing, an enormous castle perched at the very top. Several Phoenixes, or Oenixph as people here called them, circled its very dome, and it instantly reminded me of my favorite novel. The bridge connecting the island to us was lavishly decorated with bronze statues, and every hundred meters or so stood a battalion of guards, their swords ready and waiting for any threat to rush towards them. They must have been aware of the Bandit presence in the area as well, they were close to the town itself, after all. 

"How do your buildings fare against the jewel of Rongholdst?" Medea whispered into my ear, pointing towards the castle itself. "Welcome to Osperitypr, one of the only military strongholds at the west side of the kingdom. You shall enjoy yourself here."

Her words were laced with promise, and I was very quick to believe her. For just a split second, all of my worries melted away. I just wanted to move just a little bit closer, to see what was in store inside the town itself. 

Until I heard Sylvia grunt in protest as her friend marched confidently ahead of us. I started walking alongside her, the afternoon sun beginning its descent into the horizon below. 

"She won you over quite well, I see." She muttered, and I could see the hint of jealousy creep into her tone. It was ironic, no girl back home would look twice at me, I was never in an ounce of a relationship before because of it. Of course, Medea won me over right away by more than just her words...

"She's nice." I admitted, failing to see the harm in talking and smiling and laughing with a girl. Sylvia simply rolled her eyes again, this was obviously not the first time something like this had happened to her. 

"I'm friends with you too." I added. 

"For how long - before she finds a way to keep you all to herself?"

I was just about to ask what she meant by that, and she definitely meant something behind that, when Medea grabbed both of our arms, forcing us to a halt as her proud smile beckoned on her face. I couldn't tell what she was looking at, because even though the bridge was grand, there was really nothing else worth watching. Was she gesturing towards the shoreline, reflecting the setting sun perfectly?

"My company." She stated with pride, and that was when I noticed the band of knights marching towards us. Their armor was the color of charcoal, so black that no light seemed to escape once it landed on the plates. Their faces were covered by equally intimidating helmets, but what struck me was that each line of knights wore vastly differing armor. The line up front wore the most heavily-plated versions, towering over each of us as they passed us by, acknowledging Medea as they passed. The line after that were the complete opposite, minimal armor, but with enormous spears attached to their backs. Yet more seemed to wear nothing but a dark fabric, covering them from head to toe - even their eyes.

"They are the order I pledge my allegiance to," she continued, her hand to her chest as they returned the gesture. "The Ackbl Ightkn." 

The pronunciation was impossible, and yet she wrapped her tongue around each syllable which simply didn't make sense to me. The language reminded me vaguely of Welsh, but I knew it was much more...abstract even than that. Sylvia remained impassive, acknowledging the knights but showing no real emotion over it. She must have heard about them - or seen them - far too many times for the novelty to linger. We continued walking, and as we got closer to the town I was beginning to pay attention to the lanterns that were hanging in every conceivable place, colored red and burning even at this early hour. More and more civilians could be seen rushing from place to place, and I could hear the metallic clangs of worksmiths preparing something special for the occasion. When we were in sight of the town center, I slowly began to realize just how big an occasion this was truly going to be.

Candles were burning everywhere, complimenting the lanterns and collectively filling every square centimeter of space around the cobbled paths.  An enormous group had gathered together, and even though work still seemed to take place as usual, the laborers were indefinitely cheerful. I could smell freshly-baked bread, and I absentmindedly followed the smell until I came across an enormous banquet of food, sitting right in the middle of the town's widest path. It seemed that you were allowed to take what you can eat, and I immediately grabbed three fresh rolls, one for each of us. They felt crunchy and warm in my hands, and I turned and handed one to each companion of mine. Medea accepted it is if they were priceless gems, smiling and blushing slightly as she did so. Sylvia noticed all of this, and I had to admit, I could see why she would be so annoyed. I took a big bite of the roll, and the flavor instantly assaulted my taste buds. 

This was, by quite some margin, the best bread I had ever eaten!

I took more and more chunks out with my mouth as I watched the final touches being made to the festivities at hand. Children were playing far off in the distance, more than a dozen of them re-enacting a war scene of some sort. Some played with wooden swords, others used broken branches as spears, although they obviously never threw one into the air. 

"Tell me about the Stivalfe fo Ghtli." I asked as soon as the last morsel of bread was eaten, asking anyone who was willing to answer. Medea cleared her throat, ready to make a passionate speech, but Sylvia cut her short.

"The Stivalfe fo Ghtli is celebrated every year to mark the anniversary of Rongholdst's freedom from the Usurpers of the North. " She began, and the scene around me seemed to vanish, although of course the town was as vibrant and as alive as ever. I only paid attention to what my companion was saying, eager to hear the vast history behind this. "For millennia, the kingdom was torn between three factions: The Bandit King of Rrorte and his army of millions, the Usurpers, and the Ndnesski family of the West. There were many terrible wars, and millions upon millions were slaughtered, but the Usurpers were far too strong, their dragons and control of diminutive creatures ensured that no matter how many defeats they sustained, they would always have another army to throw against us until we were overwhelmed."

I listened to every word of what she said as more than a dozen lanterns filtered into the sky - an accident of some sort, it seemed. The Phoenixes circled around them, crying out beautiful sounds, adding to the atmosphere of the tale. 

"Eventually, The Bandit King and the Ndnesski family realized that alone, they would both be defeated, and so a truce was made: If their side won, they would take half of Rongholdst for themselves, and they would collectively celebrate the anniversary of their victory every year. They eventually defeated their enemies, but they were far from vanquished. Their leaders fled to the great sea, and disappeared to an unknown land. Legend has it that they still remain, ready to launch an attack on our kingdom once again..."

"On old wives' tale from an old woman herself!" Medea interrupted, fetching a chalice of wine and wrapping both of her hands around both of our necks. "We shall remain safe, especially when I am at the front line should those wardsco ever return!" 

She laughed some more, taking a large sip of her drink and essentially forcing the chalice into my mouth. I tried my best to resist, but I couldn't help but drink some of the wine that was inside. It was fruity...deliciously so, and before long Medea no longer required to push the cup against my mouth. 

"Medea, let's not overwhelm him too early with drink!" Sylvia warned, but her friend was laughing far too viciously at my experience with her wine. Almost immediately I began to feel a little light-headed, Osperitypr circling around me on its own accord. My eyelids fluttered, and I was quickly losing all sense of balance. 

"Medea! I warned you, look at him!"

"The wine cannot have that adverse an effect so quickly, it wasn't my fault!"

Their bickering soon fell on deaf ears of mine, because before I knew it, I tumbled to the cold ground, and immediately blacked out...

*

Dylan...Dylan...Dylan...

I was paralyzed again, and I felt even more groggy than the first time this had happened to me, but I knew where I was now, and every time I opened my eyes I was able to get a better view of Aaron's room. I could see skyscrapers outside his window, and the view was so incredible that my heart fluttered in response. I was back - but not in the way I wanted. 

Dylan...Help...Dylan...

I'm here Aaron! I'm here.

Dylan...Rong...holdst...Dylan.

How do you know about that place? Were you there before? Can you see us there?

Dylan...run...Dylan.

...

...

*

I knew I was back in Osperitypr when I was given free rein of my body again - but the scene had changed dramatically since I left for what felt like minutes. Everyone was smiling and cheering and having a great time...so why was that scene replaced by panic and terror instead? 

My answer arrived when I felt the enormous tremor underneath my hands and feet, and I realized that I was still lying on the clobbered ground. I rose to my feet, no time to wonder just what had happened, because I could feel Sylvia grab a fistful of my jumper as she dragged me out of harms way. 

"What's going on?" I demanded, but I only received the cries of children and women alike as the earthquake continued to rock the little island. It was a free-for-all, random people rushing in random directions to escape the mess. Vases smashed everywhere, cracks began to show on almost every dwelling, and the castle far above us moaned as debris fell from its walls. Almost as soon as the tremor eased up, another one barreled to take its place. I was knocked over by the force of it, and my head hit something hard. I began to see stars flicker around my vision, and I bit on my tongue so hard I could taste blood. Medea led the way, forming a relatively clear path for Sylvia and I to take. The latest knock to my head had obviously messed up my motor skills, because I soon found myself requiring my carrier's aid more and more as we limped to nowhere in particular. It seemed logical to assume that everyone was attempting to make it to the bridge - to cross over and escape whatever it was that was attacking Osperitypr. I willed myself to move faster, even when my legs refused to listen to my conscious demands. A third tremor sent me to my knees, scraping them against the ground and blood splashing across them immediately. This time, I held my ground as Sylvia continued to carry me forward, her grip just as strong as it was the day I met her - yet this time I had no intention of resisting. We made it to the bridge, but my face drained itself of all color when I saw what had happened. 

The structure that looked so impressive before had collapsed into the vast lake below. We were stuck. 

Almost instantly I felt myself dropped to the ground as Sylvia rushed towards her friend, speaking to her in hushed tones and nodding when an agreement was made. I still felt dizzy, a concussion probably the most likely answer for that, and could only sit here while they began to close their eyes, speaking the strange language they used to name their towns and creatures.

'Ew Kas Eth Dsgo Ot Keta Su Meho, Lowal Uryo Gicma Ot Owfl Roughth Su Sa Ew Gbe Uryo Dai!'

They repeated the same line, over and over again, yet nothing was happening. I could hear an enormous rumble in the distance, and I turned to face the disaster unfolding behind me. The enormous castle at the top of the island, strong and formidable before, was breaking apart piece by piece. Yet more debris fell onto the ground below it, and before long the inevitable happened. The castle collapsed in on itself, and the pillars of smoke that replaced it sprung forth into the sky, blocking out the sun and casting an unnatural darkness over all of us, adding to the destruction that was unfolding here. 

'Ew Kas Eth Dsgo Ot Keta Su Meho, Lowal Uryo Gicma Ot Owfl Roughth Su Sa Ew Gbe Uryo Dai!
Ew Kas Eth Dsgo Ot Keta Su Meho, Lowal Uryo Gicma Ot Owfl Roughth Su Sa Ew Gbe Uryo Dai!
Ew Kas Eth Dsgo Ot Keta Su Meho, Lowal Uryo Gicma Ot Owfl Roughth Su Sa Ew Gbe Uryo Dai!'

I felt a tingling all over my body, and I was just about to question why before an overwhelming burst of white light filled my vision, surrounding everything. My stomach churned and turned, and I instantly developed a pounding headache, and I surrendered to whatever it was that was causing all of this. I tried to close my eyes, but it couldn't stop the light from blinding me, the deafening silence from destroying my ears...

*

I couldn't tell just how long it was before the ringing in my ears had stopped, or that I was able to see clearly again, but when I eventually recovered I found myself curled up inside a beautiful plain, soft grass as fine as a carpet. I rubbed my hand through it, marveling at how comfortable it felt against my palm...until I suddenly remembered what had happened. It hurt whenever I moved, but I fought the pain as I arched my neck to see where Sylvia and Medea were. Both of them were found just ahead of me, unconscious and unmoving. It was then that I realized that it was night, stars twinkling in the sky - some of them even moving.

It took me a second to realize that they were actually Pixies, softly gliding through the sky just as they always had, and I had a vague sense of where I was again. I crawled towards Sylvia, tugging at her shoulder until her eyes fluttered open, fighting the same symptoms of whatever spell they cast. 

"Magic..." she whispered. I didn't understand what she meant, but she grabbed my hand and looked at me with fearful eyes. 

"That was no natural phenomenon - I could feel the magic course through the air when the disaster struck!"

I didn't know what to make of that, and I was just about to tell her that when I saw movement in the distance. I nudged Sylvia's shoulder again, and she turned to face the threat as it moved towards us. 

It was the Satyr King - as well as his enforcers. There were easily fifty of the mystical creatures, surrounding us with stern eyes. 

"Come with us, humans." Their leader commanded, his voice full of authority...and a little glimmer of fear. "Now."

 

 

 

 

 

12: Apterch Elvetw

-Sylvia-

The King wasted no time in herding us towards Cluny. Though it had been in a less than gracious manner. The warriors accompanying the King had tugged on our arms, dragging us along like puppets on a string. None of us were in any type of condition to fight them on the matter, nor did we have any sort of authority to refuse the Kings wishes. 

We walked up the mountain, making our way to the entrance where we found all the Satyrs huddling outside. They looked so shaken as they hugged each other. Had the tremor reached so far that they had been affected as well? It had been more powerful than I had originally thought. If that was the case, I could only imagine just how many tunnels of theirs might had caved in. Had there been any casualties? Not even the gleaming of the gems we had seen before could distract us of the terror that had happened. 

We walked through the cave halls, seeing just how much damage it had taken. Where once there was a vast open space where they would build a roaring fire to sit around and converse, it had been replaced with large rocks piled high. It had fallen from the roof of the mountain, that much had been made clear from the night sky displayed in place of where it once was. 

We were taken back to the dome shaped court room. The King took his proper position upon his throne held high above all else, and the court members sat at their own long table facing their King. Above us, the sky was pitch black no starlight was able to permeate the endless darkness, but the Pixies hovering just above provided some comfort. They were sure not to fly into the room, knowing the King would be less than pleased they entered without his explicit permission. The old Satyr Kings carved into the walls of the room had been more intimidating then when I had first seen them. Medea had been eyeing them as well with a wary expression. They were so detailed, she must have felt that they would free themselves from the walls they stood vigilantly against.  

We were situated in the middle of the dome shaped cavern, the King ahead looked down upon us and we could feel the eyes of his people baring in from behind. It made for a less than comfortable meeting, and one could be certain they had created it to be so. The only relief given was that the overbearing magical essence once felt had lessened by a vast amount. 

Arlen was present as well, standing near the entrance of the room with his hands folded neatly in front. He looked tuckered out, and I supposed it was only natural. Even if we had been miles away from him, his strong connection to magic would have made the powerful essence more potent. It would almost be as though he had been beside the very source of it himself. Medea seemed to want to cling to her grandfather in attempt to comfort him. It wasn't advisable, considering the situation we were in.

"You will speak true when in my presence." said the King. I let out a breath, the silence had become far too tense for me to take then. I was glad he had broken it, but he must have known that we would never had spoken falsely to his face. After all, he was a fearsome King with warrior blood running through his veins. He made sure that everyone knew it to be true as well.

"Yes, good King." I bowed my head, Dylan and Medea did the same without missing a beat. 

"Today the earth shook so fiercely my own Kingdom nearly collapsed upon itself." I detected a hint of anger in his words, but hidden within his eyes - there was fear. Fear of nearly losing his home, fear for his people, and fear for potentially losing his life as well as others. I could not blame them, the power we had felt had come so suddenly! "I am no fool, this was magic felt today. I do not know how far it spread. It could have rippled out into the entirety of Rongholdst!"

"It did reach the entire kingdom." Arlen clarified. He must have been the only one who would ever be allowed to speak over the Satyr King. I looked to the floor, suddenly realizing that we were suspected for being the cause of the tremor. If only they knew we were in just as much danger as the rest of them! The Satyr King nodded to Arlen, a shadow of disbelief swept over his face. I knew what he was thinking, what they were all thinking; How in the name of the King did we produce such powerful magic? The answer was simple of course! We did not.

"We have no connection with what happened today!" I would not be held accountable for something I did not do. Not again. The King rounded on me, standing fiercely upon his large black hooves. I could practically see the angry breath he had huffed through his nose. I stumbled back in terror at the sound of his clacking hoof, hitting hard against the floor. A threat to pommel me over had I dared to speak with such disrespect again. I bowed my head changing my tune.

"We have no connection, I promise you.. O' great King."

I added in some flattery, though it was a poor attempt. I could practically see Medea and Dylan fighting to groan at it. I was not savvy to complimenting anyone, it just wasn't in my nature. Though it was sorely needed then to calm the King down.

"Where were you today when the tremor occurred?" the question came from behind. His court had begun to demand questions.

"My company and I had gone to enjoy the Stivalfe fo Ghtli, in Osperitypr." I answered taking a tentative step forward once more. I looked to Dylan and Medea for some sort of support. Hoping they would speak as well. The attention on me had become to much to bear on my own, and I desperately wanted to shift the focus.

"It's true, your grace." spoke Dylan, picking up on my distress. Arlen stepped forward as well, adding to the information we all gathered. 

"I located the point of origin where the magic had sprouted. It was in--"

"Osperitypr.'"Medea interrupted. She had seemingly gained courage from Dylan's own. Arlen sent her a reprimanding look, but made no show a voicing his aggravation of her rudeness. Even if he was respected by the Satyr's, it was bad form to argue openly in front of any court. Arlen knew this well. I supposed some form of decorum yet flowed within those old veins of his. 

"Correct."

"So they were lying when they said they had no connection!" called another Satyr. One that I was not afraid of glaring openly at. All they were doing was pointing fingers. That would only slow the process of sorting things out, and they were fools to do so. Starting a witch hunt would be of no help, I only hoped their leader would have enough common sense to agree. 

"Sylvia has not lied." Medea stepped directly in front of the King, bowing her head low. She gazed back up to meet his piercing eyes, in show of honesty. "Sylvia hasn't power enough to detect where the magic first gathered."

I crossed my arms angrily. She had no right to speak of my short-comings to the entire court! Even if she was trying to protect me. I saw Dylan glance my way before looking back to Medea. Perhaps then he would understand my obsession in needing to know about his teachers- about him. It was a necessity to broaden my capability when using magic.

 "I felt where it had originated as well.. and it was much closer than I would have liked." She turned her head slightly, locking eyes with Dylan. 

"Then you must know that this magic is dangerous." said the King.

"We do." I agreed, seeing Dylan look away from Medea's prolonged stare. I did not want to get caught in whatever uncomfortable situation they had going there. 

"We will be wiped away by such evil!" Began the cries of the court once more.

"This magic is a threat to all things living!"

"It will surely only leave death in its wicked wake!"

"Send them to find the cause!"

They were frantic, finally showing just how much it had affected them. The world as we knew it had been peaceful thanks to the rule of the good king of Rongholdst, and his gracious Queen. They were benevolent rulers, always thinking of the welfare of their people, that included all the other species living in it as well. They were no experts in magic however, and the Satyr's had no better understanding of its workings than our human rulers. We were all threatened by its force looming over head, and the entire land would need to band together then. For all present knew that it would only be the start of many more horrors, and if we did not stop it-- it would mean the end for everyone and everything. 

"Silence!" the Satyr King called. He rubbed his strong chin, looking as tense as the room had felt. 'You will go under my command, and you will stop whatever has caused this.' 

"We will use whatever force necessary, your grace." Medea nodded.

"It shall be done, old friend." said Arlen, who then turned on his heels and walked out. His shoulders slumped, finally making him resemble how old he truly was. We were all feeling quite tired by that point. With a weary wave, the King dismissed the court. 

*

Arlen had led the three of us to the entrance of Cluny where we stopped to gather our wits. The day had gone far worse than intended, that much was certain. We stood amongst each other, a long silence falling over us. Everything that needed to be said had been in court. The only problem was we had no idea where to start our search. Were we to return to Osperitypr for our search?

"If you will excuse me, I think our search for the cause will go much quicker if we went separate ways." Medea walked passed us with her hand on her rapier, Guardian. Her steps were cautious, not what I was used to seeing when it came to her. Especially in my presence. I shot a quick gaze to Dylan who watched her leave. Even he could sense something was off about her. I briefly wondered if it had anything to do with that staring contest they held back inside.

"Where will you go?" I asked, stepping quickly after her. I left Dylan to stand with Arlen, both of them looking as though they needed more time to think things over.

"I will use all resources available to me." She responded, keeping focus on the dark forest that rested ahead of us. 

"What resources? You mean your order?" I asked, becoming frustrated with her change in demeanor. She kept walking. Enough was enough. I grabbed hold of her arm, noticing how the hand that rested upon her blade twitched. My immediate thought was that she wanted to draw it upon me, but she would never. Just as I would never make to harm her, even if I would joke about it. The events of the day had left us all on edge. First the bandits, and then Osperitypr. I decided then to force myself to calm, and relinquished my hold on her. I made sure to express the worry I felt then on my face. "Medea.."

Her hand slipped from Guardian, and she pulled me into a fierce embrace. I stiffened, keeping my hands at my side. A recollection had been sprung into mind then, one of when Medea and I had just become friends.

We were enemy of sorts back then - well I considered her an enemy, she had only seen me as her grandfather's new apprentice. She was polite when talking with me, but never did she go out of her way to speak with me. Nor I with her. Something about her hadn't settled right with me, she was far too reserved to seem an honest person. She had been a squire at the time, and the fights she had with Arlen were far worse then. She would often come to the forest seeking his blessing to pursue her dream of becoming a full fledged Knight. It was on one of those nights where they had just finished another fearsome argument that I had stumbled upon her weeping in front of the door to the hut. I had been out collecting a whole basket of morel mushrooms for our dinner that night when I came upon her. I would have ignored her had she not been in the way. So I cleared my throat, and asked her as kindly as I could to move. She simply looked at me through narrowed eyes. She had stood with a ferocity I did not expect from someone as dainty as her. With a finger jabbed into my chest, she began to tell me just how rude I truly was. Each step I took back, she advanced forward and continued her barrage of words. They were more colorful than even I dared to use. I found I had preferred her unfiltered side much more, and broke out laughing. She had finally shown me who she truly was by doing so. I laughed so hard it had become soundless, and the mushrooms I had gathered all fell to the floor as I clutched at my sides. Medea looked bewildered by my reaction- that is until she erupted into a fit of her own as well. I sat out with her for hours that night, forgetting about even preparing dinner. Arlen had gone to bed hungry that night. She spoke so much about her dreams and aspirations so honestly, that she had tricked me into doing the same. When the night came to the end she hugged me tightly, thanking me for my company. With a frown, I merely warned her to never embrace me again. She laughed, and many times thereafter she would embrace me. Each one becoming tighter than the last.

"Be safe, Sylvia.. and do not worry. All will return to normal, I promise."

And off she left, leaving me to watch as she disappeared into the darkness of the woods. That embrace had been a gentler sort. It left me more worried than anything.

I made my way back to Arlen and  Dylan, not caring if I interrupted whatever banter they were having. 

"Where do we start?" I asked, looking between the two. 

"I don't know, I'm no expert." Dylan shrugged, and with a lost expression he looked to the rocky floor. "I'm still wondering why I haven't been able to return home..." That was another problem in need of solving. It was known that the most pressing matter had been the tremor. It would destroy all, Dylan included. Then he would certainly never see his home again. 

"I refuse to deal with this right now. Whatever that was...it has affected me greatly. I need rest now." Arlen staggered off towards home. 

"I guess none of us are any use tired." I said.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep, Sylvia." Dylan replied. He nodded forward, signaling for us to walk. "Honestly, I just want this all to be sorted out."

I sighed, agreeing with him. It was much too important to be held off. Sleep would only delay our efforts. Even if we wanted to rest, the matter at hand would only make to plague our minds. I doubted we would get a good nights sleep. 

"I do not know where to begin."

"Me either, but we have to start somewhere.."

We climbed over a fallen tree, heading nowhere in particular.

"Maybe we should go back to town. I'm really worried about the people there too. Do you think they're okay?"

Had that been what was worrying him the most? Wondering if the people of Osperitypr were safe? All I needed to know was who in all the Kingdom would be strong enough to summon such destruction, and if I could benefit from them somehow as well. Only after I knew this would I allow myself to think upon other things. Perhaps it had been harsh to think, and would be harsher still to speak aloud. So I simply shrugged and continued onwards. 

"You're right. The best thing to do would be to return. Perhaps we could find something there."

We stopped in our tracks, noticing a light glow a few meters ahead. It was then realized that no Pixies had been fluttering about as they usually had whenever Dylan was around. "What is that?" I asked, walking towards the familiar glow of the Pixies, an uneasy feeling gripped at my stomach. The air around us grew colder, as our hard breaths puffed out like smoke every time we had exhaled. 

When we grew closer the Pixies scattered, flying furiously away in all directions. They had become quite fickle all of a sudden, but why? They tolerated me whenever Dylan had been around, but then..

With the loss of their light, I mustered enough energy to summon light from the palm of my hand. I looked around, wondering where they could have gone. Or why they seemed so frightened. 

"Sylvia.." Dylan's voice wavered as he spoke. I turned to see why he called, thinking that he was only cold. Oh, if only that were the case. Instead, I followed his saddened gaze down to the earthy floor.

There, laying upon heaps of dried leaves was a Pixie shining no light. It was as still as a statue, and I realized then the impossible had happened - it had died. I brought my hand to my mouth, feeling only dread. How many times had I wished harm upon the Pixies for cursing me? 

"How is this possible?" I asked, trying to concentrate on keeping the light from my hand strong. Dylan kneeled at the tiny creatures side, looking at it closely. I did the same, needing to be sure what I saw was real. It was so small, and its wings were glossy. Oh! Its face was so lovely with the innocence of a child! I felt that at any second it would jump up and regain its glow, sending a curse my way before flying off to find its brood. I wished it to happen, I willed it with all my might. Alas, the reality of how weak I truly was had set in once more. Dylan carefully cupped the corpse in his hands. I remembered our first meeting, when Dylan had tried to capture the Pixies. I felt angry tears begin to form at the side of my eyes. 'They are said to live forever!' He brought the poor creature to his chest, and shut his eyes tight. Refusing to cry, my breathing steadied once more. How did Pixies tend to their dead? Had they ever done it before? Some time had passed before he set it down once more.

In anger, I began to storm away.  

"Sylvia!" Dylan ran after me, "Aren't we going to bury it?"

"Our customs are not the same as the Pixies. Come, we must find a way to put a stop to this."

13: Apterch Irteenth

"It launched itself to the ground below them, a mass of fur which moved with more agility than its mass should dictate. Ozwalt could only see the shadow of fur as it descended, and dived out of harm's way just in time. His knees scraped against the ground, as his palms did the same, no doubt bloodied slightly from the fall. Isacian could only look on with terror as the animal soon stood on its hind legs, standing taller than both men, its body covered in muscle & fur, the air soon filled with the sound of its heavy, unnatural breathing. The former Prince knew just what he was facing. The fiend belonged to a species his father instructed to contain when his grip on the throne was strong, realizing how dangerous such wicked monsters could be. 

But his father no longer had breath inside him, & there was none that could stop such a creature from snarling & charging. 

He felt its claws rip against his chest as he crumpled to the ground. Three scars flashed across his chest, & the pain seared through him & his thoughts, suddenly aware of just how foolish he was for threading in the darkness of night. 

Isacian - the fool that he was - attempted to warn the animal away, but his composure prevented him from causing much of a threat, & the lantern he held only served to aid the fiend in honing in on its target. Ozwalt could not see just what it did, but he could hear the monster prey on the poor lad, & his screams echoed through the evergreen around him. 

He thought about his foolishness once more. He thought of Isabella, & that he would soon join her. He imagined the man who tricked them, & that life was not fair. He suffered loss after loss after loss, & he delivered others to their deaths, as well. He told himself that he was far too headstrong, moving with the urge for revenge rather than the security of planning. 

He thought about his brother, & that he would now be on his own, before the creature returned by his side...almost remorseful with what it was about to do..."

-"The World of Phoenix & its Origins" - Chapter 7-

-Dylan-

The pixie's death shocked me, but it was nothing compared to what had happened next.

Its lifeless body was left behind, and as the two of us moved further away from it, the bright light of its companions floated down towards it, illuminating the plain in a combined glow. I wasn't aware of what 'customs' they might have had, but they continued to shine collectively, a miniature sun in the middle of the forest. Sylvia showed no reaction towards it, lighting the palm of her hand and moving towards the hut as I grudgingly followed close behind. 

Why couldn't the Satyrs do anything other than stay inside their caves and hold courts as often as they pleased? The earthquake had damaged their home, as well, so why did they feel the end to send errand boys to discover the cause? I suddenly remembered the fable Sylvia had told me, how the Usurpers of the North controlled every mythical creature - including the Satyrs. 

Suddenly I discovered the reason why they hid in secret - they were afraid that whatever this was, it was caused by them.

"Where are we going?" I asked hesitantly, watching in amazement as Sylvia held her palm in front of her, and the magic glow which flowed through it. This must have been the same reaction she had when she saw my phone for the very first time. 

"We're going to rest before we begin any search. It is too dark to discover anything useful tonight."

"But what about the -"

"The Satyrs gave us all the time in the world." She countered, sharing the same aversion for their unwillingness to move as I had. "Arlen may object to your presence, but pay no heed to him."

"And Medea?"

She slowed down. Not by much, but enough for me to notice that something had happened.

"Medea...intends to enlist the Ackbl Ightskn to aid us in finding the cause of the disruptions."

"How will they help?" I asked as we trekked over the bark of a fallen tree, another victim of the disruption. The hut was just in sight, not a single light burning inside its walls. Sylvia's master must have been elsewhere. 

"They consist of multiple factions within their ranks. There are those who specialize in the art of magic - or Archerse​, who can trace the origin of spells. Quite useful if one had committed a crime using magic."

"They do sound like they could be a big help. We could just wait until she returns with them, they sound like they could solve this mystery immediately?"

"Aye, you may think so...but that earthquake simply could not be the result of a single madman. There may be more than one perpetrator at work, and that would make the Archerse's search even more difficult."

"And what if all this was caused by a single person?"

Sylvia stopped there and then, the light in her palm vanishing instantly. Quite suddenly, a gust of cold wind blew through her hair, sending chills down our collective spines. Even in the dark, I could feel her ice-cold glare bare down on me. What she said next made me shiver once again - and not because of the bitter air. 

"If that is the case - then we should be very afraid."

*

Edward...Edward...Edward...

I could hear Aaron's voice before I was able to make out the recreation room we were in, but this time there was no difficulty in keeping my - his - eyes open. I recognized Theo, directing another patient outside, while Otker was busy talking to another family with ravenous optimism. I could make out the view of New York outside, and I appreciated it for a split-second before my brother focused his eyes towards Edward, and my first reaction was that of shock. 

Edward was heavily tanned, much more than either of us, owed to his time living abroad. His blond hair looked messy and unkempt, yet it somehow suited him. He must have flown in over the past couple of days, though I had heard nothing about his imminent arrival. He smiled when he saw Aaron approaching, and they hugged each other tightly as I was powerless to voice my delight in seeing him again. Close-up, I noticed that Edward's bloodshot eyes were lined with dark circles. He hadn't slept in quite some time. 

"How's my favorite man today?" He spoke, and even I could detect the effort he needed to stay optimistic. I completely understood, No-one should have to witness a family member regressing to the mindset of a child, and it was never going to stop. 

Dylan?...Dylan...

I'm here Aaron!

I called out as loudly as I could, but Edward noticed him utter my name. As soon as he heard it his head darted towards the floor, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Dylan...won't be visiting again Aaron - I'm sorry."

Dylan...okay?

Aaron had directed this question towards me, but it seemed he was no longer able to keep his thoughts to himself anymore. Edward picked up on it, and I could see the emotion in his face shift further into that of pain. He hugged Aaron again, and he whispered into his ear so lightly that I had almost missed it.

"Dylan has gone away - he's never going to come back again."

Rongholdst...Osperitypr...Sylvia...Medea...Dylan!

Edward shied away, unsure as to what Aaron was saying, but I understood every word he spoke. His face frowned to that of confusion, wiping his hand over his hair in worry. Almost immediately, and to my surprise, he walked towards Otker, pointing towards the both of us and voicing his concerns. I could feel the panic rise in Aaron's chest, but seeing as I was sharing his body for now, I tried my best to calm him down. 

Aaron relax! I'm right here, don't listen to what he said. Listen to me, Otker is coming over here, so repeat whatever I say, alright?

I could feel my brother nod to himself in acknowledgement, and I could feel the surge of fear when his doctor moved towards him. I wish I knew just what it was that made him so afraid of Otker - if he so much as mistreated a single hair on his head...

"Aaron, are you feeling okay?" He asked, his hand reaching into his breast pocket. I didn't know what was inside, but I noticed the sudden multiplication of fear rise inside my brother, and I rushed in to speak. 

Listen to me Aaron, say "I am fine."

I...am...fine.

Otker raised his eyebrows, removing his hand from the pocket, genuinely caught off-guard. 

"Your brother here said that you weren't feeling so well. Would you like to go to your room and take a nap?"

Say "No thank you, I want to paint."

No...Thank you...I want to...paint.

Edward looked genuinely confused, wondering what on Earth was going on, but Otker's eyes lit up in an instant, and I deduced that this conversation would set up the wrong idea. It seemed like Aaron was getting a better grasp on his speech - this could work against him, but right now I needed to get him out of whatever situation my brother ws afraid of. 

"What were those strange words you were speaking?" He pressed, fixing his spectacles in curiosity as he escorted us towards the blank canvas at the corner of the room. This question was more difficult to answer, and I could tell that Aaron was waiting, pleading, for a response. 

Tell him "Dylan's favorite fantasy novel." 

Aaron found it difficult to wrap his tongue around the syllables, but he repeated the sentence to the amazed doctor as Edward's eyes widened in recognition. Otker seemed genuinely breathless, scratching his chin in amazement and placing his hand on Aaron's shoulder. I noticed that he recoiled in fear slightly, and I desperately wanted to know what he had done to him. He'd pay if he hurt him in any way!

"He doesn't know about what happened to Dylan.." Edward whispered, and Otker moved away from us as he spoke with him outside. Aaron grabbed a multitude of paints, and I was now free to speak with him directly. 

Aaron I don't know how much time I have here, I need your help!

He kept painting, almost as if he was ignoring me outright, and I could feel the enormous sense of glee he felt when he splashed some red all over the canvas. I felt like repeating myself before he stopped abruptly, trying hard to find the right words to say. 

I dream...about you...and the girl...girl...girl...

He was still saying all of this out loud, but no-one seemed to be close enough for him to hear. He was trying desperately hard to keep silent - I felt every morsel of concentration needed to do this. It was terrifying, experiencing his condition first-hand and the fractured consciousness that came with it. I remembered when he was much sharper, wittier, funnier...

You did? Then you know what's happening! Please Aaron, I need you to tell me what's happening to Rongholdst.

I never had the time to listen to his response, because in a heartbeat the world around me snapped shut like a flash, replaced by darkness...

*

My eyes opened slowly, but something had startled me awake. 
It was Arlen, closing the door audibly behind him as he returned from wherever he was. He took one look at me and nodded, walking slowly towards the kitchen as his hands glowed visibly in the darkness. Sylvia was in the next room, silent and perhaps used to the noise her roommate generates at night. Realizing I wasn't going to sleep in the near future, and with Aaron still stuck in my mind, I rose from the floor I was lying on. My back protested, and I knew I couldn't continue sleeping in conditions like this. It was times like these where I missed my soft bed back home.

It didn't take much for me to figure out just what my eldest brother meant when he said I was 'never going to visit again'. 

I died from the car crash - didn't I?

"Yer book is wondrous, young man." Arlean commented as I sat down next to him, my History book primed on his lap. He had made it to the beginning of the Second World War, and Hitler's rise to power. "Yer History sounds fascinating."

"I'm glad you enjoy it."

He grunted, perhaps irritated that I wasn't in the mood for exchanging pleasantries. We sat in silence for a few moments as the hermit flickered through more pages, but the silence itself was strangely...comforting. 

"She's a good girl." He muttered, and for a second I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. "Sylvia arrived 'ere once upon a time, still as stubborn as she is today. Dumb as a mule when it comes to magic, lemme tell you! She is, however, very good at judging one's character - and their magic."

"But I can't do magic." I countered, watching the midnight sky outside, the full moon identical to the one back home. I had made moongazing as a hobby of mine when I was younger, drawing back the curtains and watching its glow whenever clouds were eradicated from the sky.

"Perhaps in yer residence, you can't. Here, the sky's the limit. Yer magical essence is very strong, stronger even than I."

This was ridiculous, and I was going to tell him this when he placed his palm over my head, muttering arcane words. 

"What are you-"

He knocked me out cold before I could finish, a sleeping spell, from the looks of things...

*

A dreamless sleep - I had never experienced something like that before. One moment I was conversing with Arlen, next thing I knew, I was waking up to the harsh daylight, decidedly cold and bitter. I was shivering profusely, and I sat up and wrapped my arms around me in a feeble effort to keep warm. Sylvia was awake, moving around in the other room and swearing to herself, objects crashing to the floor with surprising consistency. She sounded like she was looking for something before she burst into the living quarters, glaring at me with piercing eyes. 

"What?"

"Have you looked outside, Dylan?"

Confused, I turned my head to see what she was talking about - and I instantly caught on to what she said. 

It had only been a few hours, and the forest around us was as peaceful and vibrant as Spring. Now, however, every square meter of it was buried under a thick blanket of snow, a howling wind carrying more of it through the air. We were in the middle of a full-force blizzard, and I had the distinct feeling that this wasn't meant to happen. Sylvia returned to her room, searching for whatever she was looking for with limited success. I peered through the opening, hoping to help. 

"What are you looking for?"

"A spellbook - something that can explain why magic is running rampant right now! Can you not feel it Dylan? Someone is casting this wicked spell right now!"

I was instantly afraid, burying my hands underneath my clothes in an effort to retain some heat. My teeth chattered repeatedly, and it seemed central heating wasn't a luxury Arlen had invested in just yet. The old man was nowhere to be seen, where did he go?

"Ahah! Found it!"

The book in her hands was huge, so large that I found it halarious to think someone could ever misplace it. Sylvia slammed it on the floor with impatience, glossing through as many pages as she can, her face turning a faint shade of red as she did so. I chose to keep a wide berth from her for the moment - She could light up her palms on demand, I didn't want to experience any other feats of magic she may have in store. 

"Nothing - This book is not worth the parchment it is printed on!" She cried, throwing the book aside with anger. Wasting very little time, she reached for a heavy set of fur clothing, throwing one in my direction. 

"We're going out in that?" I protested, the wind howling ominously in response, placing a suitable 'period' at the end of my sentence. 

"You've never seen a little bit of snow where you come from?" Sylvia offered as a reply, her earlier agitation cooling when she smirked at me. I must have looked like a weakling to her, afraid of little snowflakes. "We have our orders, we need to discover just who or what is causing this. I hope the Oenixph will survive."

My thoughts immediately turned towards the Phoenixes in flight just yesterday, and my stomach churned as I imagined them braving these conditions. 

We brushed through the hut's door, and was instantly pummeled with wave after wave of fresh snow, instantly numbing my face and hands. Sylvia struggled to keep alongside me, and our line of sight was reduced dramatically due to the blizzard. I could barely make out what was in front of me, the sky seemed to connect with the ground below - a never-ending sea of white. I was blinded from the onslaught, and I had full intentions of returning to the hut when Sylvia stopped suddenly, raising her palm in front of her and muttering more words that I couldn't understand. I stood alongside her, shivering from the cold, as she struggled to illuminate her palm in the midst of this torrential snowstorm. Frustrated, she coiled it into a fist, swearing underneath her breath. 

"It's no use - the spell is just too strong."

She looked towards me, an idea flashing through her eyes. I didn't know what she had planned, but she lunged for me there and then, grabbing my hand and forcing it into the position hers was in just moments before. 

"I need you to say these words Dylan - Tle Eth Ormst Sspa - Turnre Ot Eth Lmca Ti Swa Forebe"

​"What?" I responded, the bitter howling in my ears messing up what she was saying to say. Her grip around my hand grew much stronger, Sylvia was growing impatient, and that scared me. 

"Repeat after me!" She shouted, and she recanted the words again and again, so loud that even I could hear it. I repeated them, and a searing pain slashed at my hand, as if someone had taken a knife and embedded it into my palm. I shrieked in pain, but I continued to speak the words as loudly as I could, thinking of Aaron the entire time. Was he able to watch this right now?

"Tle Eth Ormst Sspa - Turnre Ot Eth Lmca Ti Swa Forebe
Tle Eth Ormst Sspa - Turnre Ot Eth Lmca Ti Swa Forebe
Tle Eth Ormst Sspa - Turnre Ot Eth Lmca Ti Swa Forebe"

My palm was on fire, an endless surge of pain which flickered deeper into my arm, and I struggled to stay awake. I felt weak, very weak, and my eyes fluttered as I tried to keep them open.

The storm, however...stopped.

I wanted to stop the spell, but Sylvia repeated the words with as much conviction as before, so I kept it up regardless of the personal cost. We kept shouting into the air until the snow had melted, the sun began to shine as brightly as before, and the forest had returned to the way it once was. I collapsed to the ground as soon as Sylvia stopped recanting the spell, coughing and reeling in pain. I spat blood, but for some reason that didn't seem to trouble me very much. I felt light-headed, the threat of being pulled under all too real right now. Sylvia looked at me with the same piercing glare as she had this morning - but for an entirely different reason. 

"Dylan..." She whispered, unsure of what to do. "The magic...it was you."

 

 

 

14: Apterch Urteenfo

-Sylvia-

No words could express my shock. It was known that Dylan held a strong magical core, his essence leaked and left a trail wherever he went - but to cause such immense destruction? I simply could not fathom the extent of his power any longer.

I let him walk ahead of me, I could not feel safe around him. Not after what I had seen him do. The walk back had been done in silence, and filled with tension. The snow that had fallen had stayed, but the blizzard had been prevented from going any further. The crunch of snow beneath our feet only proved to make our trip a little less strained.

When we arrived back to the hut, we were greeted by Arlen crouched by the fire, wrapped in multiple layers of cloaks and sheets, sipping on hot tea. His old teeth chattered, seemingly causing his brain to rattle about. He had planned to ignore us, but that would not serve any of us well then. 

I shoved by Dylan, ignoring his angry protest as I did so.

"Arlen."

"What now? Unless you managed to stop that bloomin' magic, you have no reason to be around here!" He took another sip of his tea.

"Dylan is the caster." I crossed my arms, perhaps if the situation hadn't been so dire, I would have had fun with how I revealed that piece of information to him. Remembering just who it was who stood behind me, I turned so that I could see Dylan should he had tried anything. It was funny, just a few hours ago I had considered him a friend. My fear had cautioned me to believe otherwise.

"I thought as much.." Arlen grumbled into his cup. He had suspected Dylan to be the cause? For how long? Why hadn't he said anything? Why hadn't I thought of it? I knew why, I wasn't as capable as him or Medea. My thoughts stopped abruptly at the thought of her. Back during the court hearing.. something inside of her had changed. She grew cautious and contemplative. Had she known as well? Was that why her demeanor towards Dylan had shifted so suddenly? I find my eyes drifting over in his direction, narrowing them just slightly. From the looks of it, he hadn't liked that all too much.

"It couldn't have been me! I don't know magic.. I- "

"Dylan, you just used it to stop the blizzard! Of course it is you!" I stepped towards him, flailing my arms in anger as I spoke. He looked unimpressed by my display, but I kept at it. There was no stopping me when I got worked up to a boiling point. I was beginning to believe I could have trusted Dylan, sadly I had misjudged just how cunning he had truly been. "You set me up with the Satyrs, you caused the tremor, who knows who might have died from it! You caused the pixie to die, and you created this blizzard! You, Dylan!"

His brows furrowed, and his cheeks gained a slight pink tinge. A sign that he was angry as well.

"I didn't mean to!" he yelled so loud, I feared I would have gone deaf. With his balled fists, the air around us began to freeze over once more. The fire began to slowly die and darkness was seeping into the hut. 

'That is enough!' Arlen stood, throwing down his bundle of sheets and cloaks. He hadn't even noticed his tea spilled all over our dusty old floor. I hadn't realized that I had fallen back in fear when Dylan was displaying his magic. From the way he blinked in confusion and looked around- he hadn't either. I looked up at him, and he looked down on me.

"Yer constant shouting helps nothing! Now, shut up, and stop yer fighting! Yer actin' like a bunch of bumbling idiots!"

He looked down, realizing his tea had spilled. He grumbled sadly at the loss of his drink and rubbed his temples.

"How long are you going to sit on the floor, girl? Get up!"

He jammed his foot into my back. Needing no more encouragement, I stood and dusted myself off. I was keen on averting Dylan's gaze from then on.

"What do we do?" I sniffed indignantly. I felt my shoulders had been much more slumped than usual, it hadn't worried me much. At the time, my energy had all but disappeared after my anger subsided. All I wanted to do then was curl up in my lumpy bed, and curl beneath my scratchy sheets. A great responsibility had been thrown into our laps, coming in the form of Dylan. I knew I had been too harsh in my judging him, but I had been frightened.. how else could I have dealt with it? 

"I do not know. Never have I heard of someone able to possess such magic." Arlen looked to Dylan. It wasn't a fearful look, not like mine was. It was contemplative, inquisitive.. laced with pity. But why? Arlen knew something, he also knew withholding any information then would have been foolish. We needed to get to the bottom of things. "Dylan." His voice was calm and patient, unlike I had ever heard before.

"Yes?" came Dylan's feeble reply. 

"You are not from our world, are you? But that much was clear. From your clothes, to those strange things you carry. Yer history." I chanced a glance towards Dylan, that theory was much too absurd to be true. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, he was still shaking from our little spat, and his eyes were glued to the herbs that hung from the ceiling left to dry. He looked at it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. 

"No." he answered. I looked to Arlen, completely baffled. It couldn't be true! A different world? What world was it? Where was it? I felt my head spinning, it had been too much to wrap my head around just then. I turned, clutching at the table for support.

"Do you know how you came to be in Rongholdst, Dylan?" Arlen pressed on calmly. How was he able to do so? Keep such a level-head about such a distressing situation. Envy washed over me, and I promised myself that when everything had been said and done, I would listen to Arlen much more closely. 

"I didn't even know I had magic."

"It was unknown magic such as yours existed. Do not fret, young man." Arlen sighed. "I searched through your history. Nothing of magic was made mention. Only witch trials held in a place called.. Salem."

"Nobody in my world really believes in things like that." Agreed Dylan. I could hear the frustration in his voice. It dawned on me then, the first few times we had met, he had called it all a dream. It all made much more sense. I sucked in a breath, feeling well enough to rejoin the conversation. 

"Nothing like this has ever been written in our history." I said.

"As far as we know. However, there are things much older than us.. there was life before we came into being." Explained my mentor, scratching at his chin.

"If you think the Pixies will help us now - "

"Don't be a fool, girl! Use yer head for once!" Arlen walked up to me just to smack the back of my head. I scowled and rubbed at where he hit. Luckily my hair had served something of a cushion then. I didn't tell him, in fear he might make me bald through magic, just so I could feel the impact of his heavy hand. Even after his chiding, I couldn't figure out what he was getting at. So I simply shrugged my shoulders. With a scoff he spoke once more, "Do I have to spell everything out fer you? The Dryads!" I stiffened at their mention, and made no show to hide it. 

"You mean, they could still be alive in the forest?"

My words were cautious, unsure of whether or not he had known about my run-in with the ancient tree-spirits. Who was I fooling? It was Arlen I had been speaking of! Of course he knew. Even if I had tried my best to keep it a secret, somehow Arlen would know. 

"I would not know, Sylvia. But perhaps you would." His words were sounded more as though he was telling me to spit out what I knew. He was right, of course he was. It was no time to play coy about the matter. I simply nodded, unsure of where to begin with an explanation. He had little need of one, as he went to the next matter at hand, "The Dryads were probably here from the beginning, before any o' us were made. They would understand the essence of magic above all else. They will know more history, of what is lost to us."  We all went silent, drifting off into our own respective thoughts. 

The Dryads had come to me once, this much was true. I could remember their whisperings so clearly, the sounds of their voices could still be felt tingling in my ear.

No longer does she weep, now let us sleep, let us sleep.

They had drifted into slumber. But for how long? Were they dormant before then, as well? They hadn't exactly shown themselves, and their presence was only made known for the briefest of minutes. How would we be able to contact them? Were we going to be able to at all? Would they wake again?

*

I led them to my special place at the behest of my master.  Once we reached the blockade of thick trees I called out.

"Let us pass."

The trees groaned as they shifted, just as they had always done. But the path I had become accustomed to- the one that was usually so vibrant with color had been turned into something completely unrecognizable-  the flowers that decorated the path were blackened shriveled, no signs of life were shown. Not a bird singing, nor an ant to claim the mound of dirt. Only  the trees remained, and the distant sound of the pouring falls.

I looked to both of my companions, an uneasiness washed over as I stumbled forth unto the barren plain. The crunch of the dead flowers beneath my feet were painful to listen to, only solidifying the reality of what had become of my little haven.

"What happened?" I felt my heart squeeze in sorrow. Dylan's simple reply came calmly.

"I did." He walked passed me, heading forward towards the rushing waters. His eyes as hollow as his voice. Arlen and I followed closely behind. 

When we came upon the opening, the waters had seemingly changed as well. The water had become murky, steaming with a putrid stench. It was hard to believe that before then it had been clear, sparkling like diamonds off the light of the sun. I yearned to see it return to how it was. So foul was the smell, I had to use my hand as shield for my nose to find relief. Arlen did much of the same, digging his pointed nose into the crook of his arm.

"Hello?" called Dylan, looking up to the high reaching branches of the surrounding Laurels. No longer did they sway in the gentle breezes that had once graced the grounds I had found so sacred. 'I'm looking for the Dryads!' I leaned towards Arlen and whispered.

"They will not show."

"How did you summon them before?" he asked in a much louder voice, not caring for secrecy. I hadn't summoned them before. I had simply laid down and cried- quite pathetically at that!

"Hello!" Dylan called out once more, becoming more frustrated as nothing but the echoes of his voice came in reply. It was no use.

"Sylvia!" Arlen yelled, he was becoming impatient as well. 

"I don't know how to summon them!" I yelled in return, huffing as I sat down. All had seemed a futile attempt to me then, and I would take no part in the silliness of calling out to something that refused to hear.

They ignored me after that, catching on that I would be of no use to them. Both had begun to call out, looking to the canopies as leaves began to fall.

With a sigh, I laid back and prayed that everything would be put back in order. Perhaps Dylan would return home, and Medea and I would go and pick berries together. I hoped her aspiration of becoming a Knight would have drifted away by then, and her lust for excitement and honor would have dissipated along with it. Arlen, Medea, and I would practice magic together, and all would be well in the world.

"Please.." I whispered to myself, trying to get my wish out into the world. I wondered if I needed a star to pray upon then, after all, it had worked so well with my first wish. It led me straight to Arlen. A few moments passed until I heard a very familiar melodic whispering. 

We are here, we are here.. said the voice, Beneath your feet, we are near.

What could that have meant? I sat up, not caring to about the leaves that clung to my matted curls. The Dryads were spirits of the trees, they would always take to living in the most intimate part of the old trees. Of course!

"The heart of the tree.." I surmised, and stood up tall at my own revelation. It was just like the first time I had heard them call to me, laying on the ground and weeping with my ear pressed to the floor. That was when I heard them. "The roots." I laughed to my companions, "They are deep within the roots!" Arlen let himself smile as he came to me and gripped my shoulders.

"My girl! My brilliant girl!" I laughed more at his reaction, happy that things would soon be sorted thanks to the knowledge of the great ancients. Dylan came to stand at our side, wearing a smile of his own. He looked as relieved as I had felt.

'You'll have to use yer magic, boy.'

Dylan nodded, readying himself for whatever he needed to do. When I had asked him to use his magic, it had seemed painful for him. Like the life that flowed within had been bleeding out with each incantation. Yet there he stood, undaunted by the fact that it might have been as painful as the first time. It could have potentially been worse the second time around.

He is brave, I found myself thinking proudly upon him.

"Repeat after me; I mmonsu eth insve fo eth oudpr dersel, ot andts ongstam eth rai I eathebr."

Dylan repeated, over and over, his palm outstretched. With each word spoken his face had grown pale, and beads of sweat began to run down his face. His eyes slowly began to roll back into his head. The earth shook slightly, not as menacing as the tremor we had felt in Osperitypr. It had been more gentle than anything. Slowly, the ground parted and the roots peeked through the dirt. They were pale in comparison of the bark that made the stump of their trees. They curled elegantly, gently wrapping around themselves until they formed the shape of women. 

I stared in awe at the sheer beauty of them, their magical essence seeped into my heart, making it close to bursting with emotion. I wanted to fall down and cry at their feet, remembering how lovely they had treated me before.

Arlen shook Dylan of his trance, seemingly impressed by Dylan's power. There was no place in Dylan's mind to relish in the praising of Arlen, as he was much to weary to take notice of anything. He fell to his knees, gripping at the dirt beneath. His breaths were so shallow I feared he would faint.

'Are you alright?' I asked, making sure to have a spell ready should he had need of healing. 

"I'm fine." He responded, forcing himself to his feet. Three Dryads stood before us, with gentle smiles placed upon their lips of vine. 

"In all my years.." Arlen whispered breathlessly. He stepped forward, and I had realized that it was his first time meeting the beautiful spirits. Their hair was ethereal, glowing a lightly with a hue of green. It misted around them, spreading a lovely scent back into the surrounding area. The stench of the water had been stayed, but not purified. "I never thought I'd live to see something like this.." I could see Arlen's eyes water as he looked away from the Dryads.

"Weep not for our presence, children. But for the return of the Eamersdr." all three of us looked quizzically to one another. "All hail to the return of the lost lords of old." and the other two Dryads hailed, but not to Arlen, nor to me. I looked over at Dylan who seemed unsure of how to respond to the respect being presented to him.

'What is the Eamersdr?' I whispered to Arlen. He merely shook his head.

'We were placed here long ago, when the Eamersdr were in danger of falling out of existence. Our elder mother told us that one day, they may yet return. And so here we were placed, lying in wait of their great return.' The one in the middle had suddenly clutched at where ones heart would be, a blackness slowly crept up the entirety of the roots that made her form. All three of us took a step forward, hoping to try and help her. The other Dryads simply shook their heads, holding up a hand to keep us from getting any closer. 'We are weak,' she finally said, and stood tall once more, 'We will die soon.'

'Can't we save you?' Dylan asked sadly. A sad smile was placed upon their fair faces, 'There must be something we can do, right?' 

'My child, such kindness you wield.' she replied with a gentle voice, the vines shifted - drawing her closer until she stood right in front of him. With her hand she caressed his face soothingly, drawing tears from him. Soon enough, I had felt my own fall freely. The other two Dryads approached Arlen and I as well. Doting over us like mothers as we all wept. Perhaps it was the stress that was building inside of us, or the fear of all the destruction we feared, maybe it had been the knowledge of knowing such brilliant forms of life were going to fade away into nothingness. I could not tell you, even to this day why it was we all wept. 'Let this gift guide you.' They presented Dylan with a bracelet woven from the branches and leaves of their trees. When it had been made, I was not sure, but it had fit perfectly around his wrist. 'Find the ruins, and you will gain the answers you seek.' and with that, the blackness had crept up and claimed the Dryads. They dried and fell upon the floor like dust. Their ethereal hair drifted until it filled the entirety of the sanctuary, returning life to it, and cleansing the water. Everything had returned to how it once appeared, only it had felt a little emptier.. colder.

When we left the trees did not shift from their spot to hide the way to my secret place. Instead it was left open, for all to see. 

Arlen sniffed loudly before rounding on his heels, regaining his composure. 

'I'll pack some supplies fer you. It seems like you might be traveling for a while.' and off we went, returning to the hut. Food and clothes were packed. Arlen had given Dylan more appropriate clothes, as to not stand out. He looked quite dashing wearing a dark blue doublet, the colour had suited him nicely. We wrapped cloaks around ourselves, donning the hoods. It felt a necessity for some odd reason, to keep our identities hidden. We stepped out of the hut, I was anxious beyond belief. The Satyr King had charged me to find a way to stop the destruction, however, and I was determined to do so.

Arlen had walked us to the edge of the forest, observing how the laurel bracelet worked. There was a slight tug, directing the wearer in which way to travel.

'Like a magnet.' said Dylan. 

As we started to walk through a field of high rising wheat, I heard Arlen call to me once more.

'Sylvia!' I turned my head, my cloak had covered half of my vision as I did so. I saw him however, running towards me as fast as he could. When he reached me, he took frantic breaths, trying to settle once more. 

'What is it?' I asked, eager to start the journey. With a motion of both his hands, he summoned a large black leather bound book. A green tree decorated its front. I recognized the book well for I had many nights trying to sneakily read through its contents. 'Your grimoire..' 

'Take it.' he placed it in my hands. 'You will need to study somehow.'

'Arlen..' I had been sorely tempted to hug the old man, but at the same time I had wanted to throw the book back in his face. He had grown very sentimental over my leaving, and I briefly wondered if his old heart had been going soft. Bringing the grimoire to my cloaked chest, I nodded in thanks.

'I will make you proud of me yet, master.' and without another word, I turned, dragging Dylan along with me. I began missing my home very quickly. My hut. My teacher- who would always have harsh words ready for me, whether I had done well or not. 

15: Apterch Fteenfi

-Medea- 

Peho was grand, an enormous city stretching from coast to battered coast. Waves crashed against its walls, as they had done for centuries, but the fortress stood tall and unrelenting. It was a full day's hike to walk here, but I had not the energy needed to repeat our teleportation spell - A spell which required two spell-weavers to execute. Bandits littered the well-worn paths, taking advantage of the chaos that ensued in Osperitypr. I walked past those who would allow me, while decimating those who stood in my way. 

My mission was far too important for delays. 

He was a foreigner, that much was certain. Perhaps we should have doubted his intentions as soon as he arrived. Sylvia, however, had grown attached to him - and she usually had an uncanny ability to see right through people and into their very souls. She would normally be able to tell those who were pure of heart from those with bad intentions. 

Oh Sylvia. Do not fret - he tricked us all!

Large banners flickered against the brisk breeze, my hair flailing wildly from side to side and blurring my vision. I paid no heed to the discomfort, the need to inform the King and Queen of Rongholdst of the dire threat that faced our kingdom. His power was wild and out of control - he collapsed to the ground when the surge of magic was at its peak. He was a madman, allowing the power to overwhelm him. Was that his intention, to act the victim and hope we would never deduce that it was him all along?

My blood boiled just from thinking about it. 

A curfew was placed in effect, but I found it to be reasonable.  Peho felt the force of the earthquake just as any corner of Rongholdst had, but it would take more than just a slight tremor to break its walls. Many have tried - and failed - to storm the city for hundreds of years. It would not fall. 

Not even for the suicidal boy with more magic than any single sorcerer should have a right to wield. 

Many of the Ackbl Ightskn marched from street to street, enforcing the curfew and braving the strong storm which was heading our way. I felt them strike my face before I could see them - individual snowflakes, multiplying by the thousands as the snowstorm began to blanket the city. My teeth chattered soon after, and I knew that it was unseasonable weather - whatever he was doing, he was importing a new tactic. That boy will soon surrender to my hand and my hand alone...or else. 

"Ah, Medea. You come with news, I understand?"

Sir Bryce was never one to strike up a conversation, and I soon found myself in a position coveted by no sound-thinking individual. He only spoke when he was begging for information, his white hair melding perfectly with the snow around us. He easily kept pace alongside me, which could only mean that he too was summoned to appear before our rulers. 

"Aye, and you shall soon be aware of what news I bring, but not a moment before I inform the King and Queen."

He laughed at that, a great bellow which would have drawn many a stare if there was anyone around to hear it. 

"Such bold words from such a sweet girl!"

"Do not flatter me with compliments. I trust you have never documented such a storm in all your years as the Chronicler?"

"This storm is laced with magic, any fool could see that...but just what is causing it?"

"Not what, who!" I responded, and they were the only words I was going to speak. Sir Bryce was a bright fellow, he could piece the rest together. We both scaled the many steps leading to the castle, its walls dark and unrelenting. Not one hostile individual had ever made it this far into the center of Rongholdst, but if they ever could they would be obliterated by no less than three hundred of my company at any one time, Archerses performing any magic spell they please to deter any intruders. The stone walls were deep and tough, impervious to any mortal blow. My chest swelled with pride as I approached it, the kingdom I had dedicated my life to serve, and the people who I would serve alongside. 

Everyone except for the man beside me, staring at me like I was some sort of object. He knew how lethal I could be, however. Arlen had taught me well. 

The doors parted, as we strolled confidently inside, taking in the scene before us. Hundreds of the Ackbl Ightskn converged inside the enormous courtyard - some performing sparring exercises within their armor, others performing simple acts of magic in an effort to hone their skills. I could have easily had become a Archerse, but they tended to remain here until needed, when the life of a knight beckoned for me much more clearly. I smiled when fellow recruits nodded approvingly at my presence, while showing my respect as I passed those who surpassed me in rank. In the far-off distance, an enormous catapult was being constructed, several knights braving the weather in an effort to fix an imposing wheel into the contraption. 

"Impressive, wouldn't you agree?" Bryce commented, but what little of my patience had already been worn away. I was in no mood for conversation right now. More steps, and I ventured into the castle itself. Candles immediately burned out as I opened the door and allowed the bitter air to rush inside, yet they flashed into life shortly afterwards. They illuminated my path, and I could already hear the large and bothersome arguments escalating at the other end of this corridor, and the thick oak doors that sealed them away from me. That was the court room that I was to give evidence in, and I swallowed my fears away, grabbing the item in my holster and squeezing it tight in 16: Apterch Xteensi

-Sylvia-

We made our way out of the forest, finding ourselves in a great grassy plain. It was dark, and neither of us had spoken since he had performed his healing. He looked sickly, his lips lost their color, and dark circles began to form beneath his eyes. The magic he performed had taken a lot out of him, and I could only hope he didn't over exert himself. His magic was wild, uncontrollable. Every moment spent using it seemed to drain him of everything he had. This worried me. If he didn't learn to control his power, it would bleed the life from him - and quickly. 

"Can we stop?" Dylan said through huffs. He was tired, and needed rest. The plain had left us vulnerable to any foe that would have tried to attack, I didn't like that. He needed to stop however, and so did I. We had walked all day, as a result, blisters had started to form at the side of my feet. Had I hobbled the whole time? I was secretly glad Dylan hadn't seen me limping as we traveled, lest he tried healing once more. I didn't think he'd wake up for a while if he used anymore magic. 

He laid himself out on the grass that swayed within the night breeze. A painful look had been spread across his face. He was still hurt from earlier, when we were both thrown into trees. I looked around the open fields, it went on for miles and miles on end. Only the distant mountains could be seen. Surely if there was anyone around with ill intentions we would see them coming. I sat down, watching Dylan fall quickly to sleep. I was somewhat glad, if he had stayed awake it would have made quite a tense situation. I hadn't known how to speak to Dylan anymore, and something told me he felt quite the same about me. 

It hadn't been long until there was no light at all, all that was left to be seen were the black shapes that were the mountains. They looked quite frightening then, and I slightly wondered when I had become such a coward? It had been Dylan who made me this way, reducing me to a feeble helpless girl. It had been a while since such thoughts had surfaced within me, it reminded me of home- the one where my parents were. I didn't fancy feeling as such, and so I reached into my pack, and pulled out the grimoire Arlen had given me. It was much too dark to read, and I had little energy to create any light spell. That hadn't been the reason I had brought it out, it was for comfort more than anything. Drawing it close to my chest as I laid down, my thoughts were drawn back to my master. Never did I believe that I would find myself missing the old buffoon, yet there I laid, close to tears. Wishing very hard that everything would be back to normal soon. Did anyone else out there even realize that our world was in mortal danger? 

Dylan began whimpering, repeating his brothers name over and over in his sleep.

"Don't hurt him.."

He muttered as he turned on his side. I could hear the grass drying beneath him. His magic was in effect once more. 

"Dylan!" I sat up, and fumbled back quickly as the dead grass moved its way in my direction. I yelled for him to awaken, but he had been too lost in his dreams to ever hear me call. I felt a new found energy spur inside, and I summoned light from my hand, the once luscious grass had turned black, and the dirt it grew in quickly fallowed. Soon enough, I knew the earth would crumble beneath us once more. 'Dylan, please! Please wake up!' I screamed until he stirred. His eyes fluttered open until he saw me backing away like a frightened animal. He bolted up, realizing what had been happening, and slowly he begun to clutch at himself and yelled in pain. His magic seemed to do that a lot - cause pain to everything it touched.

But was that completely true?

I stopped, my fingers glided down where I had been hurt. He had healed me. I looked down, seeing the deathly magic spread around me, but never touching me. Was that Dylan trying to stop it? 

I felt Arlen's grimoire in my other hand, and quickly sifted through the pages for any magic. Had there been enough energy inside of me to conjure up such difficult spells? Even if I had been fine, magic came difficult for me. My heart fluttered with doubt as I held up my palm, emitting a pathetic glow of light. Dylan's screams persisted all the while. There were so many spells to read, and the pressure kept building inside of me, keeping me from focusing on any of the words as my hands trembled. I struggled to turn each page. 

"There must be something!" I screamed, my anger and fear were at their peak. Both in league with the other, working against me. Until finally, I came upon one that I thought would help before anymore destruction had been begotten. A spell to cause a certain object- or person, to still, as if frozen. Hoping it would work, my hand was brought forth in Dylan's direction. I chanted each word, not caring how my voice shook. It felt like forever until the spell had begun to work. Slowly Dylan's voice vanished, until he became as still as a statue. 

Once my courage had been gathered, as well as the last of my strength, I had made my way to his side. His face was contorted in pain, but his magic stopped. Briefly, I wondered if he could still breathe in that state. I worked fast to find another spell to induce a dreamless sleep. It seemed to me that every time Dylan was in distress, his magic would completely run away on him more than it already had. 

My exhaustion had only intensified, but more magic was called for. I was surprised I was even able to perform any spells from Arlen's grimoire. Perhaps it had been the urgent situation that had pressed me to do so. When the other spell had been successfully performed, and Dylan slept soundly, I took to doing the same quite quickly. 

*

The sun had arisen far too quickly, and we soon began on our journey once more. Dylan hadn't seemed to want to speak about what had happened during the night prior, it had been all the same to me. There wasn't anything left to be said about his magic. He knew where I stood on the subject, and not much would change my mind. Even if he had healed me, and forced his corruption away from where I stood.. he was still destroying my world. He needed to go, but where? He had said he died in his world? How could that be true? How was he dead there, yet alive in Rongholdst? Though he barely looked it from his complexion. 

We had finally made our way clear across the fields, it had only taken the whole morning. I was a bit put out by that, we had only just started our journey, yet there we were, looking as though we had been traveling for ages. What a sorry lot we were. 

When we came to the end of that insufferable field, all that was left between us and the mountains was a small strip of trees, I figured it would only take us a few minutes to pass it all together. We were getting closer to our destination, and farther from my home. We walked forward, well- he staggered, I had limped. Either way, we continued on, hoping that we would get there soon. 

"Did you need help carrying your bags?" I eyed Dylan warily. He just kept looking worse by the minute. Somehow, through the morning he had become gaunt. Searching through my pack for a quick bite to eat, I failed to witness what happened. All I had heard was the sound of rushing air- and the swishing of rope. 

"Sylvia!" Dylan cried desperately. I looked up to find he had been caught in a net, hanging in a branch high above my head. 

"What in the-" I hadn't had anytime to finish, as everything began to spin. I was on the floor before I knew it, my vision was quick to clear. Though I did feel a throbbing in my head.

"We caught som'ne!" cheered a man with a gruff voice. A chorus of cheers soon followed. All males, except for one. 

"You fools!" came a promiscuous voice. How was it possible for a voice to sound promiscuous? I hadn't the slightest clue, but hers certainly sounded so. 'Look at them, do you truly believe they would have anything of value? Their clothes are as torn as a beggars.' I chanced a glance at the people who surrounded us. They were in red, their clothes lined with a silver trimming, and over their faces bandanas were worn. They were those local bandits, and from the sound of it the few Medea and I had taken care of the other day were present as well. 

"Oi! I know these sorry gits!" yelled one, who took a stick and poked at Dylan. 

"Quit it!" Dylan yelled, trying to swat away the foolish bandit. If only he knew who he had been dealing with. 

"I know this one, too!" Yelled another, who roughly yanked my head up, successfully pulling out some hair in the process. I could hear the tear as he did so. I winced in pain, not daring to pull away from his grasp in fear of losing more precious hair. "Right little minger, aint she? Where's your pretty friend, the one with the sword?"

"Don't tell me these kids are the ones who did you in?" the woman crossed her arms. She was attractive, she wore tight striped trousers, with boots that reached the mid of her thigh. Her corset was tight, giving added emphasis on each curve. Her brown hair was tousled at the top and braided down a shoulder. I hated her for being so beautiful. Her sorry band of misfits quieted at her question, suddenly realizing just how shameful it was to be bested by us. 

"Well, their was this other girl-"

"A girl? A little girl put you in that state? You do know how bruised you were? I thought you'd been done in by a wild animal!"

She kicked the bandit who held on to me, and he toppled over, landing beside me. She looked down her freckled nose at me, a glimmer in her eye.

"And you.."

She looked up at Dylan who had been watching the entire scene unfold.

"Both of you will pay for crossing me and my men." She nearly whispered. She began to saunter away, swaying her hips in the process as she receded back into the trees. "Kill them." She said before disappearing. 

The men chuckled as they cut Dylan down from the net. He dropped to the ground, grunting in pain when he had collided against it. The net poured around him, held open like a fully bloomed flower. 

They all pulled out daggers, there eyes narrowed. I could not tell if they were glaring at us, or simply smiling. Those damned bandanas proved to be more intimidating than I had previously thought. Without thinking, I had backed away from them, finding my way to Dylan. 

"Dylan," I whispered frantically. There blades were rusted, they had obviously been unaccustomed to wiping off the blood after a fight. If Medea had been there, she would have surely chided them for not taking proper care of their blades. I remembered just how she handled her own, sometimes even treating it like an infant. I had even heard her cooing to it once as she polished it down. It hadn't been her finest moment. "Dylan, you have to use your magic." I urged. He shook his head, as they circled us completely.

"I'm going to enjoy this." One laughed. 

"You'll be sorry for crossing us." Agreed another. There blades came slashing down, and both my arms had been thrust up. I held a barrier for as long as I could. It wouldn't hold for long, and no one was going to save us. We had to fight ourselves.

"Dylan!" I cried out, my arms shaking as I fought against the force of their blades. They grunted, pushing down harder. 

I knew Dylan was afraid, it was understandable. I had been as well, his magic could potentially have killed us all. One thing was certain, however, if he did nothing, then death would have been certain. I could no longer  hold the spell, my arms were on fire. There daggers came down with great speed, slashing at both of us. We both cried out, the pain was searing. Never had I been cut by a blade before, and a funny thought had come to me then; I was a bit spoiled once I had thought about it.

"Get away!" Dylan yelled, and the air around us shifted. His magic had begun. Just the sheer power of his voice had been enough to send them all flying back. One had gone so far he had slammed into a tree. I could hear a loud crack, and he hadn't gotten back up. The rest of them fought to stand once more, looking dazed. They looked about them- obviously searching for their lost daggers. They had been sent flying off somewhere as well. I doubted they would find them again. I stood, dragging Dylan up with me, knowing full well that just how much he would be in pain as well. His magic was a thing of mystery to me, but I had begun to figure out how it would go. He would display a great amount of energy, but also hurt himself in the process. That was where I would come in.

"Keep up with me." I said, keeping a firm grasp on his arm. With my other free hand, I summoned as much light as I could, blinding them momentarily. 

We ran until we were sure they would not catch up to us, and then we ran some more. We had made it to the mountains, the only way was a thin narrow strip, between the great rocks. It would only allow one person at a time to pass through. The air the flowed through was cold and uninviting. I had half a mind to go back to the bandits, but the fate of the world had been riding on us. 

"Let's go." I said, pushing Dylan first. 

17: Apterch Venteense

-Dylan- 

This hike was torture - and the ordeal of the bandits had certainly taken its toll on the both of us. We ran as fast as we can, but the best I could do was a pained shuffle, relying on the Dryad's bracelet to carry me in the right direction. The path was narrow, too narrow for the both of us to walk side-by-side, so Sylvia moved ahead of me. We squeezed through the miniscule opening and came across a flurry of natural spikes, the rock formations extruding from the ground. Birds soared above us, but no Phoenix were to be seen. Instead, the animals looked more ravenous, their necks arcing towards the prey below their talons. They didn't appear friendly, which meant staying out in the open was probably a bad move on our parts. 

"Lturevu." Sylvia noted, spotting me staring at them. She obviously had the same idea I had, pushing me towards the shade one of the rocky pillars provided. We collapsed onto the ground, the exhaustion clearly displayed on her face. I had no doubt the same registered on mine. I felt terrible, my pale hands shaking violently, as did my knees. The bracelet seemed loose on my arm somehow - until I realized that it was me who was changing. I could see bone pressed under my skin, and I immediately reached for some food inside Sylvia's bag, taking the first herbs I could find. She didn't seem to mind. 

"How's your arm?" I asked, her gaze flickering towards me when I spoke. She seemed hesitant to answer, but I could see the faint line where the bandit's sword cut through. It was only a graze, any deeper and the injury could have been a lot more serious. I coughed profusely, and for the first time I found myself unable to stop. I curled into a ball as it inflicted more pain in my stomach, matching the sensation I felt in my hand. When I finally stopped, I spat a faint trickle of blood which had been building up the entire time. Still, it was becoming less frequent - I looked at that as a minor victory. 

"You need aid." She commented, the tone in her voice shaky. She wanted to stay mad at me, but she couldn't and I could sense the fear that replaced it. She was also in no position to follow up on her statement, so I replied with a simple shrug, placing my back against the rock and watching the sky above our heads. 

"The Dryads. They mentioned the Eamersdr - Any idea what that is?"

"It means Dreamer in our native language." She responded, grabbing something unusual and flicking through its pages. It was the spellbook from before, albeit a smaller, hand-held edition. "And there was no doubt in their minds that it was you they were referring to."

It suddenly began to make a certain amount of sense to me, as if a piece had finally fit in a puzzle which had frustrated me for so long. Sylvia, however, beat me to my own epiphany. 

"You claimed that my world was a dream before. I believed it was the work of a pixie's curse, but now I know better. This world that you come from, you're able to shift between both of them, weren't you?"

I remembered the tone in her voice she displayed now - the same authoritative command which demanded me to follow her to the Satyr cave. I smiled at the memory, a life-time ago compared to what had happened since. 

"I used to, until..."

"You claimed you died in your world, correct?"

"Yes, and I don't know how to get back...I don't even know if I can."

"The Dryads instructed us to visit the ruins. Perhaps the answer lies there. Perhaps there is hope for you yet, Dylan."

"You mean hope for your world - the sooner I leave, the better right?"

She turned away, irritated and apologetic all at the same time. The Lturevu cried and flew ever higher into the air, searching for food yet unable to deduce where we were hiding. 

"I'm sorry, Dylan. You simply must understand - your magic is dire and you are unable to control it! We need you to leave this place."

I simply nodded. She was right, so there was no point feeling offended about it all. My palm flickered like a flame, and for a second I thought I was performing another disastrous spell, though nothing appeared to happen. The sky remained as powder-white as it had a moment ago, and the ground had remained as solid as it once was. No snowstorm was on the horizon, and definitely no tremors could be felt underneath the both of us. I felt afraid, very afraid, unable to stop what might happen. 

We waited for seconds, then minutes. Nothing. 

"We should move - that swordstress would waste no time in pursuing us once she discovers we had eluded her men." Sylvia deduced, standing up and eyeing the mountain ahead of us. "Which direction does the bracelet pull you towards?"

I weakly held my left hand outward, and the magical item did its job - pointing directly at the obstacle ahead of us. 

We groaned in unison, delighted with what karma had thrown in front of us. 

We started to climb, darting from hiding place to hiding place in an effort to hide from whoever - or whatever - was watching. Every step on this cold rocky ground winded me completely, and Sylvia fared no better. We stopped frequently, pausing for a few moments simply to catch our breath, and continued on our journey. I had studied plenty of mountains back in New York for Geography, and by their standards this hill was pretty tame in comparison - perhaps 1,000 meters, 1,500 meters at most. That still provided a considerable challenge for the both of us, injured and exhausted, but things could have been worse. 

Perhaps karma was trying its best to help us - even if it didn't look like it so far. 

We spent the entire day trying our best to work our way up the mountain, pausing frequently but never staying in one spot for too long. I was in worse condition than my companion, my back protesting after being thrust into the tree. My body felt so weak that I was bound to collapse, so when we stopped for yet another break, I asked if I could have some more food. Sylvia gladly offered some meat, wrapped in parchment and looking like nothing I had ever seen before. It was colored red with a blue tinge around it, a sort of spice I had never seen before. I wanted to ask just what it was - but was afraid the answer would put me off the only thing around here that was edible. Both of us took a slice, nibbling on the pieces before wolfing it down in ravenous hunger. I was cautious at first, but it tasted delicious, and that was all I needed to know before I fetched myself another sliced. Sylvia did the same before wrapping up what was left and placing inside her bag. We each grabbed a flask of water, taking two or three gulps before that too was stowed away. I didn't feel much better, but the fact that I felt hungry, and not just violently sick, meant that I was recovering to some small degree. The air around us was turning bitter, and that was when I noticed just how late it was becoming. We were half-way up the mountain, yet it looked like we were staying here for the night if we didn't scale the top by nightfall. 

Suddenly, and without warning, Sylvia grabbed me from behind, wrapping her hand around my mouth and forcing me behind an enormous rock. For a split-second I felt like shouting, demanding to know what was going on. When she pointed me to where we once stood, however, all became clear.

There were dozens of them, unkempt bandits wrapped in mixtures of fur, some of them carrying banners of their...tribe? The swordstress, the bandit woman who appeared to be their leader, could be seen from the very center of the formation, easily keeping pace alongside her heavier guard. They walked right past us, and her tone towards her tribe were harsh and demeaning, a cruel woman who ruled with fear.

"Her name is Spairde Shartzwerde - a wicked and powerful woman who defeated the previous bandit ruler. I had believed her to be a myth." Sylvia explained in awe, watching our friends scale the mountain ahead of us. Following their line of trajectory, I could see a faint light a couple hundred meters above - the remnants of a large fire judging from the flickering of light. It seemed that we needed to avoid that installation altogether, which meant we had to move now.  It was my turn to grab Sylvia, moving to the right and as quickly as we could. We hid behind rocks, always watching in case any of her personal guard spotted us. I lost my footing a few meters ahead, and I was about to yell in shock when Sylvia effectively slapped her hand over my mouth, the both of us keeping resolutely still. No-one seemed to notice us, and the guard were moving further from sight. Perhaps we would be lucky, if we continued at the rate we were going we could work around the mountain by nightfall. We trekked carefully, keeping ourselves as well-hidden as we could and eyeing a clear path far off into the distance. It was slightly off-course from our destination, but we could always deviate from it and compensate afterwards. The one thing I wanted to do now was to get off this damned mountain. 

Without warning, my palm burned profusely, and no amount of time was spent before I cried in agony, falling to my knees and grabbing my hand in a feeble effort to stop myself. It hurt so much that I was pulled in and out of consciousness, only reviving when a new flicker of pain whipped through my senses. This was the worst I have ever felt, and a faint ringing filled my ears, like an electromagnetic charge was about to detonate. Sylvia darted her gaze into the distance - towards the bandits who had no doubt heard everything. Spairde must be rushing to investigate, her weapons drawn and her guard eager for the kill. 

"Dylan stop it!" She cried - just before an enormous detonation sent the both of us spiraling into the sky, an enormous amount of dirt and rock firing in random directions along with us...

*

Dylan...Dylan...Dylan...

Aaron's room, the same as it always looked. He was staring outside his window, which meant I got a first-hand look at the city outside. It was raining there, dark clouds looming overhead. I could spot a number of different-colored umbrellas peppering the ground below, the people resembling ants. The air seemed different here, almost...polluted. Perhaps I was spending so much time in Rongholdst that I had gotten desensitized to the very air I breathed. 

Aaron I'm here!

Don't...leave me.

He was struggling to come up with even the most basic of words - his condition was getting worse yet again. 

Aaron I'm here, okay? I don't know how long I can stay but I'll stay for as long as I can!

Don't...leave...he's...coming.

Who?

The doors opened, and Otker walked through, visibly agitated. Aaron immediately backed away, but he pressed himself against the cool glass, I could feel the sensation inside his palms. The doctor looked stressed, reaching his hand into his breast pocket. 

"Now Aaron, we have received a number of complaints from other patients who have claimed you were bullying and harassing them in Recreation. Do you want to be sedated?"

It was a lie, that much was obvious. I knew he didn't have a sound reason for all of this, and my anger soon boiled over, screaming inside my brother's mind and hoping the good doctor could hear each and every second of it. 

Instead, Aaron reached for his ears, falling to the ground and whimpering like a lost little child. 

Aaron? Aaron I'm so sorry - I -

Something stabbed into Aaron's arm, and both of us collectively screamed from the unexpected pain. Almost immediately, the pain subsided and an unbearable drowsiness washed over the both of us. I fought to stay awake, to stay here, to help Aaron against this monster. My parents needed to know, Edward needed to know. Everyone needed to know what was going on!

"Sleep tight Aaron." Otker's final words whispered into both of our ears, and darkness filled my vision. 

*

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes again, was the amount of ash that was falling to the ground, drifting like snowflakes. 

Then I started coughing erratically, realizing I had swallowed some of it. 

I sat up from where I had landed, spitting them back up from my stomach, and for a few moments I just laid there. I dug my palms into the earth, beginning to feel the damage I must have sustained during my fall. My shoulder was in agony, a million different shards of glass embedded into my skin if the sensation was anything to go by. Still, I could flex my fingers, which meant that it wasn't dislocated. My right leg must have suffered the most, because the layer of clothing had completely eroded from friction burn, fresh cuts and scrapes present on my exposed leg. I could feel blood drying over my forehead, and it took just a second to realize that I had been cut open there, too. More coughing, my entire insides in pieces, and I struggled to regain my footing. 

An enormous crater was embedded inside the mountain, and it was when I observed it that I realized just how far I was away from it. It seemed to be miles away, and the last thing I remembered was standing on its steep incline, Sylvia begging me to...

"Sylvia!" I cried, limping to any random direction in particular, unable to find her. She soared in a different direction to me, which meant she could be anything from a few hundred meters to a full mile away - maybe even more. It was almost dark, and if I didn't find her now I was going to die here. I could already feel the air slice at my exposed skin and the injuries that remained there. Soot and debris still fell from the sky as I slowly limped into a grassy plain, losing myself and hoping to find her as soon as possible. I couldn't see anything, not even the direction I had come from, but suddenly this turned into a very desirable position. 

It was Spairde, single-handedly stalking the path I had landed on, her swords drawn. Her earlier confident demeanor was replaced with cold, calculating rage. Her beautiful hair covered her eyes in chaotic strands, and she slashed at the very air itself in anger. 

"Uyo Storyedde ym Ngdomki!" She yelled in the language I had no comprehension of, her swords inching closer towards me. She sliced at the tall grass, cutting it cleanly and exposing where I had been seconds before. I inched backwards, hoping to keep as much distance between me and my potential murderer as possible. Bandits moved into view, but she screamed at their very presence, shouting commands to them in her language - I was under no illusions that she wanted us found and killed. I moved further away, reaching the end of the plain and backing into a small collection of trees. I hid behind the largest of them all, quietening my breathing and standing perfectly still as her command branched out in different directions. They were covering a lot of ground, and at this rate they were bound to find Sylvia before I did. My leg was beginning to protest under the increasingly-cold conditions, and I knew that no matter what I did, death was becoming more and more of a distinct possibility for me. 

It really didn't matter whether it was death by nature, or by sword. 

Spairde seemed to have regained control of herself, staring at the mountain in the distance and swearing under her breath. I wondered if the blast radius was enough to affect the bandit camp - we were quite far away from it, after all. 

"We found 'er!"

One of her lackies had Sylvia draped over his shoulder, laughing underneath their breaths and presenting her to their leader. She remained unconscious, and she looked like she had suffered more from the fall than I had. Spairde bellowed in satisfaction, placing her hands on her hips and looking down on her like a master would to a dog.

"You, my dearest girl, will pay for what you have done - Kill her, now."

No!

I dashed as quickly as I could from cover, regardless of the injuries I sustained. I tripped over twice, but each time I got back up and continued shouting for mercy. A few of the bandits drew their swords, although I couldn't tell if they were performing their order or because of my sudden appearance. It really didn't matter, the result was the same. Sylvia stirred into consciousness, taking in the scene around her as her face drained of color. 

And suddenly our enemies froze still, about to strike but never performing the feat. 

I took advantage and ventured towards her - only to stop and stare in amazement as ten members of the Ackbl Ightkn appeared from thin-air, almost as if they assimilated into existence. They drew short daggers, and quickly struck them into the bandit's heads, their bodies remaining standing as still as before. 

These must have been the Archerse Sylvia and Medea were talking about!

Only Spairde remained, beautiful but frozen underneath the emerging moonlight. Her eyes darted from adversary to adversary, She looked defiant, although it wouldn't provide much help for her here. Her eyes locked onto mine, the boy hiding and cowering in cover. They widened in recognition just as a member of the Archerse thrust his dagger into her chest, rolling back into her head as it did so. In seconds, all the bodies crumpled to the ground, the former might of the bandit queen and her guard defeated in moments. I stayed where I was and watched as one of the Archerse offered to help Sylvia up. She was much more injured than I was, clutching her limping hand in pain, disorientated over what was going on. 

"Dylan?" She muttered, and that was my cue to rush from my cover, embracing her with my arms and crying over the thought of losing the only friend I had within this kingdom. Before I could tell her how sorry I was for what I had done, I felt a pair of strong hands tear me apart from her, sending me crashing to the ground before a dagger came within a hair's width between my neck. I struggled in vain against the individual pinning me down, my palm fluttering in the same pain I had endured before. 

"What are you doing?" Sylvia cried, releasing herself from their grip and rushing towards me, placing herself between me and my assailant. I moved backwards on my hands and feet, the tingling in my palm becoming stronger by the second. It was going to perform more bouts of magic and I was powerless to stop it! 

"Sylvia?" I cried, but not before a giant - and familiar - burst of light filled my entire vision, and I knew that I was teleporting us somewhere...

18: Apterch Ghteenei

-Sylvia-

My throat was dry and my lips drier still. It was a struggle trying to pry open my eyes, even after a trying time, I had only managed to peer through a tiny slit. 

What happened? Where was I? I was hot, and it was dark. Everything in my body screamed in agony, and when I had tried to do the same, my lips cracked and begun to bleed. I had only managed a croak as well.  It seemed to be loud enough, as it captured the attention of someone I had not realized sat beside me. Was it Dylan? My heart soared at the thought of us making it through. I was grateful for the Ackbl Ightkn that had saved us from the clutches of certain doom. They may have treated me well enough, and for that I was grateful, however, I had seen the way they approached Dylan. If that was how they were going to act, then I was glad that we were away with them. 

My discomfort alleviated slightly, as cool liquid was poured into my mouth gently. It was gradual at first, and I was hesitant to drink it. Only when I was sure it was water did I will my hands to rip away the ladle they had used to serve me. I greedily drank the water, spluttering and coughing when I had tried to drink too much at once. When my fill had been had, I struggled to catch my breath. It hurt every time an attempt to inhale had been made. 

I looked around, it was much too dark to see anyone. However, the silhouette of the person beside me told me it hadn't been Dylan. It was a woman, she was slight in frame with a sweet perfume that smelled of a fruit foreign to me. 

There was no use in panicking, if they wanted me dead they'd have done it as I slept. I was far too injured to attempt to escape anyhow. 

"Where's Dylan?" Came my voice, sounding so unfamiliar. I supposed it was only natural, never had I been pushed to such an extent before then. Our journey had been much more trying than originally thought. The hushed me gently, pressing her cool palm into my forehead. I was lowered slowly back down into the floor, which I had then realized had been cushioned with furs and silks. Her cool hand served to stay the humidity that was felt around us. 

She began to hum a sweet tune, not a festive kind as I was accustomed to every time the Pixies had gathered in the forest back home. Hers was kind, filled with love...and behind it was laced a sorrow I was only beginning to understand. Loss. Slowly, it brought me into a relaxed state. I would have wept at the sound of her voice had I been better, as it seldom reminded me of my mother. Though her voice was not as beautiful as the woman's, she would often sing me to sleep as a child. How I missed that - missed her, and father. 

Before I could fall completely unconscious, a bright light appeared. Burning my eyes as someone else had entered.

I am in a tent, I had surmised. 

That was all I could bear, before everything had drifted away into the darkness of my sleep.

*

I dreamt of Medea, and Arlen. Where the forest was constantly bustling with the essence of life, and the constant smell of the ripened berries could be smelled, and the swaying of the trees would calm the most disturbed of hearts.

Of my mother and father, and the gently rolling knolls of my home. Where you could hear the calls of the herd of sheep we tended to echo throughout its entirety. All around you was a sea of green, and much like waves the grass would sway against each other in the wind. The open sky held high above your head, allowing you to believe in whatever truth you like. An infinite source of inspiration was within that sky, as you'd make shapes of the great white clouds. You could make stories of them, and that was what I often did.

I may have always wanted to get away from that place, too tiny to be of any real note. However, there would always be a part of me that yet loved it. The place of my beginnings. It was odd, I suddenly felt the urge to return. Homesickness, as some would call it. For both my home of rolling hills and my enchanted forest. 

My dreams shifted from the light-hearted dreams of my loved ones, where everything shined its own light to stay the darkness that would sometimes plague me - into a dream of fear and uncertainty. Fires raged about me, casting shadows everywhere I turned. It had become difficult to breathe, and I could feel a colossal power begin to weigh down on me. Forcing me to stay where I stood, until the fire came closer and closer, consuming whole. I screamed soundlessly, the pain intensified with each drifting moment, until it completely subsided. I was shocked to feel the burning pain be replaced with a gentle warmth, wrapping itself around me. When I had gained the courage to open my eyes, I had seen something unexpected. I was standing in the wheat field I had slept in not to long ago, and there Dylan was. Standing right in front of me, embracing me. 

Off in the distance, I could just barely make out the rigid forms of others, who stood and watched us. Their presence had been reassuring, and it was then I had realized it had been the Dryads. They were guiding Dylan and I. 

I was released from his embrace, as he turned to face the Dryads alongside me. They wrapped themselves around each other, as we watched. Each root interlocking with the other, climbing higher and higher. When they had reached the top after forming a great trunk, branches and leaves began to spread far and wide. In the center of the great field, a great laurel had been formed. I felt it essence seep into me, giving me new life. Any fears or reservations I held within me then, had swept away. All I could do was smile dumbly, as I looked to Dylan who had smiled right back. 

*

When next I woke, most of the pain I had felt subsided. My mind was far clearer than it had been before. I sat up, looking around for the woman who had tended to me previously. Not a person was in sight. 

Deciding it had been time to find answers, I pulled myself to my feet, realizing I had been stripped to my underclothes. Bandages were wrapped around me, binding whatever injuries I had left. Never one to be embarrassed, I simply looked for my clothes, finding them not to far from where I had laid. They were tattered, but I hadn't minded. I was also relieved to find my pack, along with Arlen's grimoire sitting beneath them as well. 

With all the confidence that would grace me, I braved outside the tent. The light of the burning sun was quick to pierce my eyes. The sound of children laughing and adults conversing while going about their chores had come in quick succession. When the pain of the piercing light had gone, the vision of people walking around in loose fitting clothes could be made out. All of them were tall and elegant, with hair long decorated in gold chains that helped style it. They wore light colors, and I immediately knew why. We were in a rugged land, I could feel the rocky ground beneath my bare feet. A few patches of grass could be spotted here and there. I hadn't bothered to look for my boots when dressing. Many tents were set, secured by stakes placed firmly in the ground. Racks of meat and strange herbs could be seen, and thin trees holding strange fruit was not far from where they rested. 

Some of the people who walked by hadn't even taken notice of me, the others simply smiled gently. All their faces were that of perfection, with high cheek bones and full lips, and eyes that could thaw through the greatest of icebergs. Their ears were pointed and long, and it suddenly dawned on me that I had been in the company of elves.

A young elf girl ran up to me, laughing and offering a flower that was red as rubies - perhaps redder. I stared at her, feeling confused. She grew impatient, and took my hand, forcing me to take the flower before she ran off. I stared after her, unsure of what to do with the plant. A chuckle could be heard from beside me, as I rested the useless flower upon a stack of barrels. 

"So the human finally awakens." Said the same elf who chuckled. I glanced up, seeing a woman elf hitting a male one lightly across the arm.

"She has a name, Javaid. It is Sylvia." she smiled warmly in my direction, walking forward with open arms. I backed away from her, not quite wanting to embrace a stranger. A look of hurt crossed her fine features, before she smiled again. Her arms glided back down to her sides as she stopped directly in front of me. "I am pleased to see you are well."

"Where is Dylan?" There was little time to dawdle any longer, and I was very eager to continue and finish the task appointed to me. She looked back to her companion, both looking slightly confused.

"Is this some silly human word we are unaccustomed with?" Asked Javaid. The elves held a different culture and a different mother tongue than us. It was unsurprising that they were at a loss with me, as much as I was with them. My patience had already been strained however, it was little wonder why I had all but lost my composure in a blink of an eye.

"My companion! Dylan, that is a name, you fools! Now where is he?" I yelled, capturing the attention of almost all the elves around us. They stared at me, unimpressed with my behavior. Javaid scoffed at my reaction, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. He looked down at me as a parent would when a child throws a tantrum. 

"I cannot deal with this, you watch her, Liora." Javaid strode away, his head held high. The elf woman I came to know as Liora simply smiled and spoke in the elvish tongue, it somehow made the rest of them continue with whatever it had been they were up to.

"Sylvia." She said, ignoring how I flinched when she grabbed my hand in hers.

"How do you know my name?" I glared suspiciously. 

"I heard it in your dream. It tends to happen when another is dreaming of you as well." She smiled. "Your name is so strongly engraved on their hearts it echoes into your own." She revealed to knowing a form elf magic. My mind drifted to the thought of all the people I had dreamed about. Arlen, Medea, my parents and Dylan. Were they thinking of me as well? Were they missing me, as much as I had been missing them? My impatience slowly subsided.

"Please," I gripped her slender hand back, trying not to hurt her. I was often told how ridiculously strong I was at times. "I must find my companion. It is urgent that I do so."

"Sylvia. You are tired, and yet need rest." She led me back to the tent, using that gentle voice I recognized as the one that put me to sleep before. I yanked my hand from hers, disliking being treated as a child.

"You impertinent elf! I am telling you it is urgent, not just for me but for everyone living! The fate of our world rests on-"

"Sylvia," Liora's face became stern, silencing me in an instant. "I have seen your dreams. The fire that hounds the world into chaos is an ever looming threat. You will be of no use to help quell the fire in your condition however, not in your state. Do you understand me?"

"You do not understand!" I said desperately trying to find how to explain the situation. I began to rack my mind for anything that might make her comprehend my urgency. "The Ackbl Ightkn.. the Satyr King! The Pixie died, and the Dryads-- they sent us on a journey. They gave Dylan a bracelet made from their trees, we have to find the ruins!" I gripped my head, suddenly feeling faint as my anxiety and anger came together to ail me.

"The Eamersdrs!" I shouted.

Her eyes slowly widened at the mention of that word alone, and as though a tap had begun to run and drain her of all color, she paled significantly. 

"The Eamersdrs.." she repeated, as her chest began to rise and fall much faster than before. She was nervous.. disturbed even by the mere mention. She pulled me away from the tent, taking me in the direction of which Javaid had gone before. "You poor girl, you do not even know what burden you have been given." she shook her head. I could not see her face, but her voice had clearly shown the fear she held for me. I was only glad she had come to realize how I had felt. 

We found Javaid sitting upon a stone beneath a small tree, overlooking the vast rocky terrain. He was meditating. He had been so deep in his practice that he failed to realize our approach, jumping slightly as Liora called out to him. He scowled at my presence, only tolerating me for the sake of the she-elf. Much like the Pixies had when Dylan was around. 

"You must help me heal her." Liora demanded. 

"Why would I needlessly waste energy like that? Let her sleep, and in a few days she will be recovered." He turned back, straightening his posture to delve into meditation once more. Liora clicked her tongue, proceeding to speak harshly in their language. At first Javaid had talked back just as harshly, but as their little spat continued he had paled almost as much as Liora had. 

He looked back to me, running his eyes up and down my form. 

"How did she survive being in the presence of the Eamersdr?" He stood, rubbing his hands together. "She is weak Liora. I can barely feel her magical aura at all." 

"I am not weak!" I hissed, as he began to work his healing magic. Slowly, all the remaining pain and the tense muscles had begun to smooth away into nothing.

"Javaid, that is enough." Liora chided. Once he finished his magic, he stepped away from me. "You said the order of Ackbl Ightkn."

I nodded, sensing how she sounded much more fearful at their mention than the Eamersdr.

"Then you are in grave danger."

"They saved me." I rebuked any warning she made of the Order Medea had taken so much pride in. Even though I would never say it, anything she believed in I would try my hardest to believe in as well. 

"They are not as they once were, long ago." Javaid agreed with Liora, "Though if you wish to ignore any helpful advice given to you, I wish you only the swiftest and painless of ends."

"You truly think me so incapable?" I stepped towards him, balling my fist. As soon as I had awoken, he had done nothing but belittle me. I refused to endure it any longer.

"I would think nothing of you if Liora had not asked me to! You have been nothing but ungrateful, and rude. It is thanks to Liora that you yet live, little girl! Yet I have yet to hear you utter a word of gratitude." He spat on the floor after speaking. 

"Javaid, she owes me nothing." Liora spoke softly, not looking at any of us. She looked as though she might have cried should we had chosen to continue arguing. I swallowed my anger then, letting his words sit. He was right, they had saved my life, and I had done nothing but demand more boons. The same could be said with everyone else who had known me...my parents had cared for me, loved me, and I returned the favor by abandoning them, leaving nothing but a letter behind. I hadn't even tried to contact them during the time I had spent with Arlen. My master as well, he had taken me in taught me the craft he had so deeply loved, and all I spent my time doing was undermining everything he taught me by not taking it seriously. Medea had accepted me as a sister, taking me places I would not have dared to venture on my own, trying to help me experience life. The only thing I had ever thought of her was silly for wasting her time on such idle fancies - like knights in shining armor, and love at first sight. Who was I to think so little of her dreams? Then there was Dylan.. he had been kind to me, even if I had not been kind to him. He had saved my life, even if he had been the cause of my near death experiences. He cried for me when he thought I was gone, even after I was so cold towards him. I was all he had in the world, and I had not shown him the grace he deserved. The Dryads respected him, they did not fear him, he could heal just as much as he could hurt. He could do good things with his magic... if it hadn't been eating him alive. Was Dylan even alive? 

"I am sorry." I lowered my head, feeling shame for the first time in a long time. "And I am truly grateful for all you have done for me."

Both the elves fell silent, taking in the sight of me. I imagined I looked as pathetic as I felt. 

"You are very welcome, Sylvia." I felt Liora place her hand on my shoulder. We locked eyes, and I felt her gaze bore into me. Thawing out the cold I held within. The anger I held dearly to my heart for as  long as I could remember. 

I was angry because of who I was born to. Two nobodies living in the middle of nowhere, simple of mind and of yearning. Never looking too far from where they stood. I was angry at the sky for feeding me dreams I could never accomplish, always telling me I could reach those dreams if I stretched high enough - yet no matter how far I lifted my hands, I could never grasp at the clouds, nor the stars that taunted me so cruelly. I was angry at Arlen for always being disappointed in me for how little I could do, and so I tried even less because of it. I was angry at Medea for having the prowess of a great enchantress, without even trying, yet she threw it away as though it meant nothing to her. When it had meant the world to me. She was everything I was not, and I felt she had taken it for granted. I was angry at the Satyrs and Pixies for looking down at me. Yet, most of all, I was angry at myself. Angry for always wanting more than I worked for. That greed and hunger within me, always grasping for more than I deserved. Because of it, I had gained a feeling of self entitlement. 

"You have been through a lot, I suppose." Javaid spoke after watching my internal struggle. "And you have more ahead of you, if what Liora has told me is true."

 I nodded at his words, sucking in a breath in attempt to compose myself.

"I dare not cast my magic in fear of it connecting with the Eamersdr. I can assure you, anyone who crosses paths with him now is in grave danger. Perhaps not by him, or the Ackbl Ightkn. One way or another danger will fall upon them."

"How will I get back to him? He is on the other side of Rongholdst."

 Javaid and Liora thought a moment, conversing with each other in their language. I felt slightly annoyed at that, wanting to know just what is was that was being spoken.

"We would gladly have taught you what we know about magic, Sylvia." Liora smiled sadly. "Seeing as how little time you have to spare however, we will give you something to aid you instead. Just know this is a great treasure to our people, and it is our contribution to keeping Rongholdst safe."

He yanked off a chain around his neck, slipping off a band made of petrified wood, in it center it held an aquamarine gem. "We expect this to be returned once your journey is at its end." After shoving it in my hand, he walked back to the village, knowing we had claimed his meditating spot. 

"That is only his way of making sure you are alive when it all ends." Liora smiled. I nodded, hooking the chain around my neck. "I will tell you, Sylvia. You must use your magic to return to your companion yourself. I, too, do not wish to cross paths with him. But I know you are incapable of performing the spells required." She noticed the glare beginning to form on my face, and quickly made to explain what she had truly meant. "You are not weak, Sylvia. You are strong of will, and of mind."

I smirked a bit, relishing in her praise. It wasn't often an elf would do so for a human. "Magic requires this, but it also requires patience, and flexibility. Our peoples jewel will help you with that, slightly."

I looked down at the jewel, lightly brushing my fingers around it. Indeed, I felt it working. It calmed me, bringing my chaotic bunch of emotions into a slight peaceful tranquility. Not enough to calm them completely though. She stepped forward, opening her arms once more as she had done when I first stepped out of the tent. "If you do not mind. I would like to give you some of my own power, not a lot. Just enough to help you make the trip."

Nodding slightly, she quickly latched on to me. Her magic filled me, and I felt stronger than I usually was. 

My things were brought to me, as I succeeded in a divination spell. Locating Dylan quite quickly, he was hard to miss after all. His presence was over bearing. 

I looked to Liora, wishing there was something I could give her in return. 

"Make sure to return that jewel to us, Sylvia." She smiled.

"Thank you, Liora." I nodded in return. I closed my eyes, focusing on Dylan and where he was. The magic gifted to me swirled around me in a great heap of wind, uncommon in the dry lands of which we stood. Soon I was sent spiraling directly towards my missing companion. 

19: Apterch Neteenni

-Dylan-

I couldn't tell what had woken me first - the onslaught of rain striking my face, or the light kick that sucked the wind right out of me. 

"Ge'up. Ye'll catch yer' death of cold ere!"

I was soaked to my skin - quite literally in the case of my exposed leg, and I coughed as violently as I had of late. Adjusting my still-recovering eyes, I could see quite a number of people making their way about their business, completely ignoring the helpless teenage boy and the gang that were quite clearly hostile towards me. I noted that there were six of them - roughly my age, looking almost as worse for wear as I had. 

"Where...where am I?"

"Nowhere special, where ye' from?"

I was too groggy and confused to come up with an immediate answer, and the leader of whatever gang this was glanced at his pals, wondering if I was mentally competent. His shaggy hair was dirty and unkempt, but then that theme carried through to the rest of his body. Despite that, he flashed a smile in my direction - several gaps where a few teeth should be. 

"Well, Lemme be the first to welcome you to th' charming little town we call Litudeso"

​It was pouring quite heavily now, and I had nothing to cover me, nothing to keep me dry in any shape or form. My bracelet was still wrapped around my thinning arm - a miracle in itself.

Where was Sylvia?

The gang started to run across the eroded path, aiming for what appeared to be a barn on the other side. Their leader stood right next to me, however, extending his arm towards me. 

"They call me Lexas 'round these parts." He announced, forcing his palm against mine, my own hand igniting in pain as it did so. A thunderous rumble echoed through the skies, a warning. 

"Dylan." I replied in kind, hoping to find a suitable excuse to run and spare this city the same demise I caused at Osperitypr. 

He walked alongside me, although we should have been dashing towards our destination on account of the terrible weather. My limp grew worse, though I couldn't remember just how badly I fell this time around. I noticed the scene of poverty all around me - A mother desperately trying to cut a loaf of bread for eight of her children, a few officers in unusual uniform swiping the currency out of a baggers' hand. It was too much, too fast. 

The tell-tale tingling in my palm, and thunder struck in the distance, no doubt caused by me. I had to leave. 

We ventured inside the barn, and what stunned me were the sheer number of boys and girls taking up residence here. The smell was absolutely unbearable - a clear sign that nobody here had washed in quite a while. Straw caressed my feet, mixed with what I hoped was mud. Hammocks were extruded everywhere, dozens of people taking their place inside each and every one of them. Some of them fought for scraps, yet no-one seemed to have the decency to stop them. Punches were thrown, the bigger boy taking his claim from his defeated enemy.

Natural selection at work. 

"You look like ye' seen a Iritsp!" Lexas laughed, nudging my shoulder and sharing the laughter with his mates. I could hardly believe the sheer neglect they had towards someone in trouble. I shoved him aside as I marched towards the much-larger boy, covering his victim in the process. 

"Hey! That was rightfully his, give it back!"

The crowd fell silent, so many pairs of eyes trained and locked on me, and the boy behind me scrambled upwards and dashed away - the idiot. 

My new amigo turned around, and even by the standards of those around me, he didn't look good. He seemed to have most of his own teeth removed, his rotting gums on full display when he growled in anger. His hair was shaven, with animalistic scratches covering his head. His fists were the size of my face, trembling with rage. He inched closer towards me, until I could feel his horrifying breath on my face. 

"What are yer gonna do 'bout it?" He threatened, his pronunciation horribly fractured, and I didn't have the time to react before his juggernaut fist struck my stomach in record time. I instantly coughed up blood, splattered across his face as I doubled over, reeling and in pain. Almost immediately, Lexas and his gang surrounded me, what passed for their feeble weapons drawn. I noticed that one of them was carrying nothing but a branch in an effort to look more imposing - a branch Mr. Bully here would have no problem snapping in two, along with its owner. 

"He's new ere, he doesn' know the code!" Lexas shouted, in no way afraid of the monster he was talking to. My assailant took one look at me, coughing and spluttering and injured, and huffed in satisfaction. 

"I 'et yer' hammock." He stated, calm and concise for such a heavy brute, and Lexas simply nodded in understanding, the deal completed. Two of his comrades grabbed one of my shoulders each, and dragged the broken mess that was my body away. I noticed that everyone around me had already grown bored, focusing their attention elsewhere. 

It seemed that events like this happen on a regular basis. 

It took a solid hour before I found the energy to stand on my own two feet, even if wisps of pain still lingered whenever I moved. I was still coughing blood, but this time I couldn't seem to stop myself. My palm was beginning to burn at an immense rate, but so far everything seemed to keep themselves in check...barely. 

"I'm...sorry you lost your bed." I apologized, hoping the one person who talked to me with non-lethal intentions would be the forgiving kind. Thankfully, he flashed another smile my way, amused. 

"There's more tha' one sleeping 'ole in this place, lemme tell ya! Yer alright."

"Ya got spunk, I can appreciate tha'." Another of the gang announced, completely bald and with a vicious scar extruding down the entire length of his face. Another handshake, but this time I directed my non-lethal hand to perform the custom. "Th' name's Spud!"

Spud...

The weather outside refused to let up, and it was turning pretty dark outside as the sun faded from view...or perhaps the thunderstorm was darkening the sky prematurely. Knowing my luck, it was the latter option. While my new amigos were busy bragging about my simultaneous bravery and naivety, I found  myself thinking of home, of Aaron and what Otker was doing to him. I knew that smile was anything but genuine, but how was he getting away with what he was doing? There must have been cameras everywhere, right? I stopped myself mid- argument. There were no cameras inside the patient's rooms. That's why Otker wanted to take Aaron back to his room for a nap. He was sedated in his room when he mentioned Rongholdst. Otker knew what he was doing, damn him!

And I didn't have a way to make it back home if Sylvia and I...

"I'm looking for a girl." I commanded, pausing as I coughed impulsively into the ground below. A large bruise was already beginning to form on my stomach, and it was only going to get worse in the next few days, perhaps even weeks. Just my luck...

"Ya'know, everyone is looking fer a girl, am I righ'?" Lexas commented, and Spud and his gang snickered amongst themselves. 

"No, I'm being serious. I was traveling along with a girl and...we got separated."

"What sh' look like?"

I tried my best to explain every defining characteristic she had, but I knew they hadn't seen anyone like that by the way they shook their heads, apologetic. 

"Sorry, doesn' ring a bell."

"It's okay, but I need to find her. now."

I couldn't waste any more time here, so I bid them adieu and marched outside, regardless of the weather or my continually-decreasing condition. It was getting pretty dark now, and the thunderstorm was practically on top of us, prompting people around me to dart towards the nearest cover they could find. The houses were poorly-built, covered in the same miserable grey limestone. Pigs scattered, children cowering anywhere and everywhere. This city was the epitome of misery. To my surprise, I found Lexas and Spud rush towards me, taking flank to my left and right.

"What are you doing?" I asked impatiently, not in the mood to acquire new companions who would probably suffer the same way Sylvia had...I genuinely hoped she was okay.

"Watcha think? Yer girl sounds important, and we ain' got nothin' to do."

I was about to tell them no, to send them right back to the barn, but stopped when the barn itself was no real improvement to the outdoors. I owed them, and I couldn't dig a deeper hole by disrespecting them further. Reluctantly, I shrugged my shoulders, allowing them to tag with me. It turned out that this was a very good call, Spud knew the city like the back of his hand, and we dutifully strolled towards every point of relative importance he could think of. We reached a bar - tastefully entitled Yer Last Meal, yet there was no sign of her. She was smart, she would search for shelter, but what if she was searching for me the same way I was searching for her?

It was a shame that this damn bracelet could only point me to the ruins. It tugged on my hand much weaker than it had before. 

"Litudeso was a fin' city once" Lexas explained where no real explanation was necessary, taking in the scene that he was no doubt familiar with by now. "Place used t'be loaded once, miners would come 'ere for the Lversi, used to 'ave trading ties with th' rest of Rongholdst. Lemme tell ya, you wouldn' have recognized this place but a league ago..."

I had to admit, I couldn't wrap my head around the prospect of this city before extreme poverty struck.

Lexas and Spud led me down a flight of stairs, entering a vast array of abandoned tunnels and neglected houses. It reminded me of the underground back in New York. Chests littered the ground in front of us, some of them locked, some of them barely held together by rotting wood. In the distance, perched on top of a miniature island, stood a grand building - at least before the corrosion and neglect reduced it to a sorry shell of its former self. It must have been a school or perhaps a university at some point in its life. Absentmindedly, I reached into one of the chests, finding my fingers wrapping themselves around tattered parchment. Neither of my companions seemed to care much when I held my discovery out to them. In fact, I swore I had seen a wave of sympathy cross Lexas' eyes when he saw it.

"Aye, a grand fable it is too, but no-one 'as time to read silly tales lik tha' anymore."

I read it anyway, but immediately hit a wall when I realized that it was written in Rongholdst's native language - a language I had no proficiency in whatsoever. There was, however, a solitary word I could understand - and it was written in red.

'Eamersdr.'

"This isn't a fable." I mouthed, and what little trust I had in myself right now had vanished. Every second I remained here was a second closer to Litudeso's demise, one way or another. There was no more time for sight-seeing. 

Hours passed, and no success in locating Sylvia. I was exhausted, hungry and thirsty all at the same time, and Lexas was forced to reach out his hands and stop me from collapsing in public. 

"Hang'on, lemme get ya some food."

Spud kept me company as he disappeared into the crowd - only to reappear with some fruit. It looked rotten, undesirably so, but the veteran scavenger began to tear out what was inedible, handing me what looked like the unspoiled parts of an apple in my hands. It wasn't much, but it was a start. I was about to take a bite when I noticed a familiar shade in the crowd, a subtle hint of black melding perfectly with the poverty-stricken inhabitants of Litudeso

​They were here!

"Run!" I shouted, and neither of my new friends understood what I was talking about until a controlled dart of fire burned towards us, missing me by centimeters and igniting an abandoned cart - only to quench under the heavy weather. I limped as quickly as I could, avoiding yet more of the magical projectiles, but by then I knew I was surrounded. The Archerse had found me, and I had learned from how they attempted to slit my throat that they weren't interested in keeping me alive. Their skintight armor covered their entire bodies, even their eyes. They held their palms out in front of them, and suddenly every muscle in my body began to pull, and I was unable to control or stop it. I was frozen in place, every single part of me in absolute agony. My palm burned viciously, but I couldn't tell if it was on account of the spell being cast on me or the spell I was about to inflict. 

"Do not approach him! He is still dangerous - allow me to take his life."

I knew that voice, and I instantly attached the corresponding face as she walked towards me, cloaked in the same armor as the rest of the Ackbl Ightkn until she removed what passed as her helmet. She looked...different to the kind young woman she was before. This time, there was an enormous determination in her eyes, clearly hostile towards me. 

"Medea..." I whispered, struggling against my invisible constraints, only to scream when my muscles fought in protest. She circled me, biding her time. 

"You arrive here. You destroy one of our precious cities, yet you claimed to be innocent in all of this? You're a trickster, a fraud who befriended Sylvia and I - you fiend!"

Commoners flocked towards our confrontation, despite the hostile weather. I could feel each and every messy teardrop drip from my hair, making its way into my eyes. I could barely make her out in my blurred vision, but her teeth were bared, what little of her patience already wearing dangerously thin. 

"I want to leave!" I responded with rasped breath, barely able to move my lips as they were. Lexas and Spud rushed towards me in a feeble display of defense, only for two members of the Ackbl Ightkn to retaliate by blasting them into the air. They collapsed in a heap twenty meters away, unconscious. I tried my best to escape, but there must have been thirty sorcerers training their energy in freezing me in place. Not even my hostile magic could overcome that. 

"We cannot allow you to remain here for a second longer." Medea responded, making her way towards me and stopping just short of my face, studying it with mistrust and clear hostility. "For the good of the kingdom...for the good of Rongholdst, I must silence you now."

The pain in my palm was unbearable, so much so that I was beginning to black out, black lining my vision. I had ran out of whatever luck I had, and I knew I was about to die here, too. I thought of Aaron, and hoped that Otker was in some way merciful to him in the future...

A bright light ruptured through the air, so bright that for a second I had assumed that I was teleporting again. This time, however, it was Sylvia, an enormous jewel resting around her neck. It took her just a second to judge the scene around her, and then she wrapped herself around me, pressing her new acquisition against my dangerous hand. I screamed in agony, unable to tear my gaze away as I felt my energy sucked into that precious jewel, glowing red in the process. Medea looked at her close friend with shock, suddenly replaced by fury. Members of the Ackbl Ightkn suddenly conjured a multitude of elemental spells, a ricochet of fire, ice, and electrical energy darting their way towards their targets. Nothing could survive where they would all collectively strike! Sylvia raised the jewel away from my assaulted palm, and a barrier suddenly conjured into life, stopping each and every deadly bolt of energy. Unlike the last spell of the same kind she had summoned before, I could actually see the solidified air in front of me, stopping everything in its tracks. It was rather too impressive for words. 

"I require more magic." Sylvia stated, and slammed the jewel into my palm again. Immediately I felt the same ebbing sensation as it glowed brighter and brighter with every passing moment, so painful that I begged her to stop. I could taste yet more blood on my mouth, and I heard the collective screams from hundreds of innocent bystanders as they ran from the light that was engulfing us. Medea looked furious, her beautiful face burning red as she withdrew her sword, slicing it at the barrier in rage. To my surprise, the magic held, though the luster of Sylvia's jewel flickered with every parry and strike. I felt like I had nothing more to give, surrendering myself to the light as I lost all sense of my frozen body, praying that Sylvia had gotten us out of here in time...

-Medea-

Where Litudeso once stood, chaos reigned. 

The city was embedded with a deep crater too large to fathom. Buildings collapsed on their unstable foundation, women and children weeped, the men trying their best to stay strong and aid their families. I found myself blasted meters away, regaining my composure and witnessing the horrifying destruction for myself. Many of my company rushed to aid those in need, using what various magic they had and levitating debris away from the population. This city would need emergency aid, and it would take leagues before it was reconstructed. 

Sylvia...that blasted Tchbi had grown disillusioned, siding with that monster and allowing him to escape. I could not forgive her...she no longer benefited from my protection.

Arlen would disapprove, but when I completed my mission, he would be beneath me. 

I marched towards one of my company, instructing him to locate the trail of magic that would no doubt remain. I noticed that as soon as the boy had disappeared, so had the storm. His magic was potent, unpredictable. How could Sylvia remain blind to his madness?

I remained to aid those who needed it, but decided that as soon as I was not needed, I would hunt them both down - and kill them with with my own two hands. 

Alone.

20: Apterch Entytw

-Sylvia-

We were sent spinning far from the chaos of the city. In my haste, I held no desired destination in my to land. A mistake on my part. When the world had stopped being a blur, I had soon come to realize just where we had landed. My gripped tightened around Dylan, we were thrown from one danger straight into the other. 

I looked down at the four strong legs of a horse, and as I rose I could see the torso of a man attached to them. 

"Centaurs.." I whispered to Dylan, before he could scare. If we made any movements to upset them, they would surely have no qualms in cutting us down. There were many of them, looking down at us as if we were insects waiting to be crushed. 

Dylan slowly raised his head to bear witness of the great beasts. My thoughts returned to that day I had seen a heard once before, traveling through my home. I chose to sit a fair distance away from them, and I then felt as that was the right decision. I secretly congratulated my younger self for being so cautious. It was well needed. 

Still holding on to Dylan, I slowly stood, bringing him along with me. He was drained from me stealing his magic so viciously. It was a life or death matter, surely he would have understood. it saved us after all, hadn't it? 

The centaurs disliked my movement- albeit, very lethargic movement. They disliked it all the same, as they drew their spears and curved swords. Swords I had never been privy to seeing before then. All blades pointed in our direction, one spear had even gotten dangerously close to my throat. Perhaps Satyrs and Centaurs were distant cousins of sorts, as they both descended from horses. Satyrs however, were much more cultured. They would never point blades and instinctively wish to kill trespassers. No, they held trials instead. 

"Please.." I managed to say, noticing their eyes narrow and their ears flick back. I secretly wondered if my voice had irritated them. "My friend, he is in need of rest.. Please." I said once more. 

"Bring them to camp." I heard a calm voice break through the heard of Centaurs that crowded all about us. Their heads turned back to the source of the voice, and slowly their weapons lowered. All parted out of the way, allowing us to see who it was that commanded them so simply. 

A great stallion stood, slightly turned as he stared our way. Seemingly uninterested, yet it was not so. For if he cared not for who we were, we would have been left to die by his kinsmen. He had long black hair that cascaded freely down his very muscled back, matching the velvet of his fur, that gleamed in the small streams of sun light that pierced through the spreading branches of the sturdy trees. Specs of dust fluttered down around him, casting a mysterious air about him. His eyes naturally half-lidded, setting his face in a permanent uninterested expression. I briefly wondered if all leaders had such a face. 

I felt a spear dig into my back, urging me to follow behind their commander. After a stumble, I turned back to glare at the Centaur who had done it, before helping Dylan along. 

"I'm fine, thanks." Dylan smiled, taking a few steps to show me he was well enough to make the trip. I nodded, making sure to stay close enough to catch him should his strength had left.

We traveled along a narrow path, cleared by the Centaurs most likely. They must have used it many times to get to wherever they needed to go. The air was chilly, not uncomfortably so. It was fresh, and peaceful. The trees were spread out, and many ferns were left to decorate the rest of the forest floor, alongside some thorn bushes that we would every so often pass close enough to scratch us. Birds of different kind could be heard in the distance, accompanied by the constant chirping of vast amounts of cicadas.

We soon came upon a clearing where a large roaring river blocked our way to the other side, It led straight to the edge of a cliff, running down into a high reaching waterfall. I was hesitant to near the water in fear of falling to my doom. I hadn't even realized we were high up in the mountains. 

Slowly, their leader found the stillest part of the river, and began to cross. His comrades followed close behind. 

"They do not mean for us to follow, do they?" I whispered to Dylan, who seemed as fearful as I. He looked around noticing that we were soon to cross next. The Centaurs behind us huffed impatiently at us, telling us to move forward. "We are not as strong as you!" I casted them another glare, "We'll be swept away by the current!"

"Sylvia," Dylan tugged at my ragged sleeve. "Use your barrier." 

He nodded towards the gift of the elves hanging around my neck. 

"Are you insane?"

Without another word, he pulled me towards the water, stepping in first. We both had lost our footing a few times, but we quickly stood erect once more. He stared at me with patience, and I knew he would not move from that spot unless I used his magic, or the current take him. I did my best to give him a motherly look before yanking the ring from around my neck, and allowing Dylan to take hold of it. He winced and fought the urge to scream as it drew his power from him. The ring began to glow, and I was quick to take it back, lest it had completely rob him of life. 

He leaned on me for support, more worn than before. I allowed it, and held him as securely as I could as I focused the energy gifted into the spell. 

A great wall of magic came from my hand, shimmering all colors one could ever imagine. It was different than when we had faced Medea. 

The very thought of her name angered me. How could she turn so easily against her friends? What had led her to do so? The Medea I knew and loved would never so easily attack much of anyone. It surely had something to do with that blasted order, the elves were fearful of them, and I was slowly coming to see why.

The barrier waned in power as I lost focus thinking about Medea. With a shake of my head, banishing her from my thoughts, the barrier returned to it original strength. We walked slowly across the river, the water began to build behind our shield. I made sure to hold it for the remaining Centaurs as they crossed, not wishing them to fall to their death. Even if they hadn't been very kind.

Once we all had crossed, Dylan collapsed to the rocky floor. He was completely spent, and could no longer make the journey. 

"Dylan!" kneeling beside him, I sent back the remaining amount of energy to him. I hoped it had been enough to alleviate him slightly. The Centaurs gathered around, staring as the scene unfolded.

"Let me pass." Said their leader. Instantly they had parted for him once more as he trotted slowly towards us. I looked up at him fearfully. Unknowing to what he had planned. His attention was solely focused on Dylan however, and he waved me aside. I was hesitant to do so, gripping at Dylan's limp hand. The Centaur leader, looked at me then, and his face dropped its sternness. I allowed him to move closer to Dylan then, moving aside freely. 

He leaned down, easily picking Dylan off the floor. He placed him gently down upon his back, and began to bear him hence. The other Centaurs looked as shocked as I. It was undoubtedly a rare thing for their leader to perform such an act. They did not dawdle long, as they began to stream behind him, continuing forward to our destination. 

We had finally arrived to a clearing on the highest point of the mountain, overlooking the world below on the highest cliff. A large fire pit was made, with various types of furs thrown around the floor and atop of logs. The mares and their foals were resting upon them. They barely gave us the time of day as we came into their encampment. Well it was that of sorts. Only one large tent had been hitched, I guessed it was meant for their leader. The rest of our company spread off to mingle amongst the camp, and I was left to follow after their leader who took Dylan towards the privacy of his tent. Two of his men stood guard at the flaps of the entrance, and for a moment I had feared they would stop me from entering with him. To my relief, they had let me pass with only a stern glare to warn me against trying anything. 

I entered the dimly lit tent just in time to see him place Dylan gently upon a cot. Beside the cot, sat a mare, almost as mighty looking as the stallion leader. She was his opposite in appearance, with nearly stark white hair, braided down her shoulder, her fur just as bright.. Her large blue doe eyes watched Dylan with curiosity, before she grabbed a cloth and dipped it in a near by water basin. She proceeded to dab at his forehead with one hand, and gently ran her long fingers through his hair. He seemed to calm at her touch, as his breaths deepened more than what they had been. 

I looked to the stallion, who I had not realized had been watching me. Quite closely at that, causing me to shift with discomfort. 

I swallowed hard, mustering the courtesy taught to me by the elves. 

"Thank you for helping us." the sound of my voice brought the attention of the beautiful mare. She gazed upon me, studying my form. I supposed she had never seen a human like me before, from the way the curious sparkle in her eyes grew. She smiled at me, her full cheeks puffed out. 

"It is not you we helped." Said the stallion, who looked towards Dylan once more. 

"Therfa!"  cried the mare, with an irritated huff through her nose. So, she was his daughter. "Do not be so rude."

"It is not rudeness, young one. Only honesty."

He trotted around to where a table was positioned in the far corner of the tent, and poured himself some water. "Long ago there was a strong alliance formed between two great races. My people, and yours." He pointed in my direction with the hand that grasped at his goblet. "Though, they were of much different make than yours. A noble and powerful blood flowed through their veins, one that would eat you alive if you did not learn to harness its power."

"The Eamersdr." I concluded. 

"The Eamersdr." He confirmed with another drink from his cup. "I felt his power as soon as you came before us, with your magic. You mean nothing to my people, but the Eamersdr, he symbolizes a new era. Perhaps our retched world will once again return to the beauty it once was."

"He cannot control his power." I said as a warning. If we dawdled too long their home would surely be affected one way or the other. Especially with the Ackbl Ightkn after us. Who knew how far behind us they were. 

"This is known." he responded plainly. "You will rest here, and when you wake, we will give you supplies, and you will leave." He set down his cup and made his way to the exit, stopping when he stood right beside me. "This is all the help we may offer the Eamersdr. Our people are not as strong as we once were." and with that he left. His daughter stood, taking one last glance at Dylan.

"If you need any help, please do not hesitate to call for me." She bowed her head, to which I returned with a bow of my own. 

I sat by Dylan for as long as I could keep my eyes open, not realizing how tired I had truly been. I felt how consuming his magic had been when I used it. It was a terrible force, but if used for good...one could only imagine how magnificent the Eamersdr truly were once upon a time. When there numbers were vast. With that thought in mind, I rested my head on the side of the cot and fell straight into a dreamless sleep.

*

I awoke to Dylan shaking me slightly. It was late in the hour, and very dark. The air around us was still and calm, something I had missed. Dylan seemed as rejuvenated as his power would allow. 

"Sylvia." he whispered. I mumbled groggily, rubbing my eyes of sleep. "Where are we?" He asked. He was a shadow in the darkness of the night, but I could make out how he looked around, taking in his surroundings. 

"We are safe, Dylan." He eased at my reassuring statement. 

"For how long though?" He drew his legs closer to his body, resting his head on his knees. 

"We have to leave come the morning." I stretched in attempt to loosen my tight muscles. "You should try to get some more rest."

"Sylvia?" He asked after I rested my head down once more. I hummed in question, waiting for him to continue. He was short on time, as I had been drifting off into sleep once more. "Back in Litudeso.. about Medea..."

I sobered at her mention, losing any yearning for sleep I might have had.

"Forget her." I nearly hissed, nothing but bitterness came to me at her thought. She was prepared to strike me down so easily. I had seen it in her eyes. The malice swimming in her blue orbs screaming for blood. She knew about Dylan's magic, and she feared it as I had in the beginning. In that fear, she wished to protect Rongholdst...at any cost. Had I meant so little to her, that she would see me perish? 

"But she's - "

"I said forget her, Dylan."

We sat in silence for a time, both becoming lost in our own thoughts. Dylan tried to apologize to me, for what had happened. I nearly scoffed, and dismissed it completely. I had come to realize that he had no control of what was happening. It was no fault of his. 

He laid back, and I had thought him asleep, until he began to speak once more.

"I found something in Litudeso."

"What was it?"

He pulled out a piece of parchment from his pockets. It was folded delicately, as it was old and ready to tear at the slightest of mistreatment. I opened my palm, using a light spell I had all but perfected at that point. 

"I couldn't read it.. but I did recognize one word that's been used a lot lately." He tapped at the word with a finger, pointing it out to me. 

Eamersdr. 

Without needing to be told I read through it. It was a journal of sorts. A chronicling of what I had assumed been written by the very hand of an Eamerdr long passed. A young man, studying his lineage. It read as such; 

- Ancetr, First day of Spring. -

My father tells me it is time to learn of our people. I do not wish to study, but I know that I must. I have seen what happens to those who neglect to learn how to control the gift of our blood. I must note down everything I know.

We are the only ones privy to this knowledge, with the exceptions of our friends. That being the Mighty Centaurs, the Kind Dryads, and the Legion of the Ackbl Ightkn. Their leader has been exceptionally kind, and supportive of us in the war. 

Our kind are not afraid of death, for we know what comes after. I am afraid of it still. Will it hurt? I do not know. I do not even know if I will remember who I am when I progress into the next world. My father and brother call me silly for feeling so. You see, we are reborn into the world we can dream ourselves into. It is a strange world to those who know nothing of it, advancing in ways our world cannot. Thought, they lack the magic we are used to. This is why we are not only great magic wielders, but we also help those find out who they once were in a past life. 

"Like past life regression." Commented my weary companion. I simply nodded, not truly knowing what that was. I merely wished to continue reading, finding myself very intrigued by the old writing.

The war is going strong, and my Therfa says I have to learn why we fight in the war. Why there is a war at all. He says that when I am old enough, I too, will have to take up arms. I am uncertain as to why we are truly fighting. I know that there is one Eamersdr in particular, who is cold and cruel. He wants power, yearns for more than he already has. He fights alongside our foes to destroy us completely. His own kind. I find that particularly frightening. I do not wish to die. I am yet afraid of it, perhaps when I am older I will not be, but I am at this time. I want to grow old, and have a family of my own, like my Therfa. Why does our own kind wish to harm us? I cannot fathom his lust for power. I am afraid of him, never has our kind thought of using our magic in such a harmful way. We love our home, and our people. We only wish to protect them.. We are the Eamersdr, and our bloodline is a gift, not to be abused. I wish the one who wages war against us would see that..

I looked to Dylan, almost excited of the new knowledge gained. Why was such knowledge lost to the people of Rongholdst? Why did no one know of this? We lost connection to a different world because of it, because of the war. I wondered how different life would have been if the Eamersdr yet lived. There was one living, though, and he sat right in front of me. I suddenly felt something strange course through me.. I was honored to be in his presence. Honored to be considered his friend. But that was a silly thought, and I quickly shook it from my mind.

Dylan looked perplexed by what I had read aloud, unsure of how to process it. His brows furrowed, as he gazed at nothing in particular. 

"We should sleep." I finally said, deciding to put the matter aside. Once we reached the ruins to meet the Dryads, we would surely gain more answers. Hopefully they would know how to help Dylan as well. He nodded, turning away from me as he laid back down into the cot. He made sure to pass me the fur blanket. I took it without hesitation and bid him goodnight. 

*

In the morning we came out, feeling fresh, but burdened with the new knowledge the ancient parchment had given us. It was strange, I had felt sad for the boy who had written it. Of course he would have naturally been dead from the time he had lived in.. however the thought of him dying in the war was one that plagued me. Did he live to meet adulthood, or would he remain a child forever? Never to know the joys of growing a family of his own... It had left me disquiet, and I wondered if it was so for Dylan as well. 

We were met by the stallion leader and his daughter. It was the first light of dawn, and much of their people were still asleep. The mare had smiled brightly at the sight of us, walking forward and offering us provisions, and skins filled with water. We accepted their gift as graciously as possible. 

"The trinket around your neck," began the stallion, 'It is of elvish make, is it not?" I unconsciously gripped at the Javaid's gift, and nodded. "Let the Eamersdr bare it from now on. It will help absorb some magic that leaks from you. It will not do much, but it should be of some help to quell your unstable magic."

Dylan looked to me, not quite wanting to steal the ring from me. I had no qualms with it however, hoping that it would mask the trail of magic he left in his wake. With some luck, it would be harder for the Ackbl Ightkn to track us. I willingly placed it around his neck.

"Should I need to use magic, I will merely take it back." I reassured him.

"Now I must ask you to leave." Said the stallion, using his hand to direct us to the exit of his camp. I looked to Dylan waiting for him to guide us towards the Ruins. He lifted his arm that held the bracelet, which quickly pulled to the north. The pull was strong, indicating that we had been closer to the ruins than we realized. Another wave excitement filled me, and I had to use all the will in me to not squeal with excitement. It would have been quite beneath me if I did, and quite out of character. Before we left, the stallion let out a wild call. All his people woke quite quickly at the sound of it, and stood. 

"We will now see off the Eamersdr and his companion. We will show him the respect his people deserved, and yet do. Let us see off the last of the blood of our old comrades!" He called, and his people quickly lined on either side of us as we walked. Each bowed low with grace, paying homage to the Eamersdr. To Dylan. 

I felt the honor I had felt from last night surface once more. Briefly, I had wondered if this was what Medea had been speaking of all those times she mentioned what it was to be a Knight. The Medea I had loved. I took Dylan's hand in mind, raising my head high, finally feeling the fulfillment I had sought when I first left home. Dylan smiled at my reaction, and quickly followed suit. Slightly raising his chin, and bowing back to each of the Centaurs we passed. 

21: Apterch Entytw-eon

-Dylan-

We were basked in the aura of another forest, yet this place was much more alive than the one Sylvia called home. 

The moons gathered pace, rising into the sky and illuminating each and every unnatural branch of each and every unnatural tree. They curled in among themselves, surrounded by pixies and bathing in their glow. Somehow, a faint rainbow could be seen at the very edge of the horizon - indicative of just how bright tonight's moonlight really was. The centaurs were intimidating at first, but by the time we left I had grown to be amazed by them. Sylvia retold the tale of her encounter with the elves, actual elves, and the jewel that now hung loosely around my neck. I could feel it draining my energy away, but it was such a small amount I was able to bear it. It glowed ever brighter as time moved on, until there was no need for Sylvia to illuminate her palm any further. 

Of course, this was a curse as well as a blessing. We were on the run, after all. 

With the gem around me, no other unnatural disasters happened. It seemed to absorb any energy I expended, a miracle in my eyes. I no longer viewed myself as a danger to Rongholdst anymore - especially with the knowledge of the parchment stuck fervently in my head.

I was an Eamersdr. 

"Medea." Sylvia stated, and the sudden optimism vanished in a heartbeat. She was after me, and me alone. She viewed me as a threat, someone who must be murdered. The Ackbl Ightkn were stuck in my head, as well. They found us easily enough, which meant that we were constantly in danger...perhaps we should have found shelter elsewhere, rather than in the relative openness of the night sky. 

"Medea." I agreed, sitting beside her and watching the stars above our heads. It was strange - New York's light pollution meant that I was never fortunate enough to gaze in wonder at the sight above our heads, yet here we were, and the sight was beautiful. Neither of us seemed to be tired, intent with watching the stars. 

"I apologize deeply on her behalf...she does not know what she is doing." She continued, finding it hard to speak the words. I knew she was putting quite a lot of effort to understand just why Medea was aiming for my death, and failing. I was just as bitter about it as she was, but Sylvia must have known her for years. I could feel the sense of betrayal radiate from her. 

"It's going to be alright, we just need to go to the ruins, and then I can leave and everything will be okay..."

"You will return to your world, Dylan. I promise you."

It was a sweet gesture, but there was no way Sylvia could promise something like that. It must have been a few days since the car struck me down in my world...it must have been nearing my funeral. 

And if I made it back, only to find myself within the confines of a coffin, I was still as good as dead.

I didn't respond to her, instead climbing the nearest tree and lying on our chosen branch, listening to the every natural sound possible - from the buzz of a pixie's wings to the soft whisper of leaves as the warm air breezed through them. I noticed that the bracelet wrapped around my arm was tugging at me with much more force than before...we must have been nearer to our goal. 

"What will happen to you when I'm gone?" I asked, curious, watching Sylvia's eyes close in thought. 

"I...I do not know. We should focus on your safe return first and foremost, do not worry about my safety."

"And yet here I am, worrying." I retaliated. It was blissfully warm here, and everything was quiet. Her face betrayed the fear she obviously held, but she smiled for my benefit. Her eyes reflected the moonlight, capturing both moons within them. 

"Well aren't you kind?"

"I'd like to think so." I chuckled, delighted when she laughed lightly beside me. "But I genuinely worry about you, especially with Medea..."

"Do not worry about her - I am more than capable of defending myself."

"You could come with me, you know." I added, but bit my tongue as soon as the words escaped into the air. There was no way she could follow me, no matter how hard we tried. 

And we both knew that. 

"Tell me more about your world." She commanded, perhaps hoping to change the conversation, and I dutifully replied as I tried my best to describe the skyscrapers and buildings that littered my fine city. I made a passing mention towards the clothes I wore, and the stores that sold various different brands. Of course, she seemed utterly amazed at this. I described the fast food chains as best I could, as well as the different countries and their customs. Rongholdst appeared to be a large, unified kingdom, and Sylvia questioned me again and again about these different countries, and who ruled over them. Her confusion towards my answer led me to believe that the concept of democracy had never breached the barrier between our worlds. The jewel around my neck burned an incandescent red, and I fought for breath, something which startled Sylvia. She was about to reach for the item when I waved her away, assuring her that I was fine. If it weren't for this gem, I could have unleashed any matter of disasters by now. She continued to wrap her hands around the jewel anyway, surprised. 

"So much energy..." She whispered, watching the light flicker inside its very heart and darting her attention towards me again. All I could see was her face, her hair messy and unkempt from days of traveling and danger, yet at this moment she still looked...

"I'm still very sorry, for everything." I whispered, but she didn't respond. She inched closer to me, the sound of pixie wings picking up as the creatures surrounded us. They glowed brightly as they watched us curiously, wondering what on earth two humans were doing atop their favorite tree, perhaps. For the first time in all of my life, however, I ignored them. I ignored the creatures and their dwelling. I ignored the world around me. I ignored everything. 

Everything except her.

I didn't have time to speak before her lips found mine, warm and inviting. Without thinking, I returned the favor, our lips interlocked as we pressed ourselves ever closer until there was no space at all between us. Her face brushed against mine, cool from the open air but mesmerizing nonetheless, and we continued until the rush of pixie wings became too unbearable for the both of us. Sylvia broke our kiss, only to swipe her hands and usher them as far away as she could. I had learned enough about pixies to understand that she was putting herself at great risk by doing so. Their light vanished almost entirely, but in the dark of night I found my smiling lips searching for hers again. From there on out we continued, my hands wrapping themselves around her as she placed hers on my chest...

*

Dy...lan.

 

The blissful atmosphere from the last few hours shattered when I realized that I had fallen asleep, finding myself back into Aaron's point of view. 

But he was not inside his room, nor was he inside Recreation. 

Otker was ushering him - us - down a darkened corridor, his hand placed firmly on my brother's shoulder. We were forced along, and I had no control over any of this. I could feel the dense emotions Aaron was feeling, but the most prominent of all was...acceptance. 

Aaron don't you dare give up on me now! We can get you out of here, just give me some more time! I'll find a way back and expose Otker for what he's doing!

Dy...lan...Dylan...

He had regressed so far that even my name was becoming an astronomical challenge for him. He spoke with the same level of concentration as a child learning to speak for the first time. This very fact sent chills down the length of my spine. There was no way he could regress that quickly - it was impossible. 

Dylan...Hurry...

*

My eyes flashed open, and I found myself scaling down our resting place, allowing the bracelet to direct me where to go. We must have been near, because it seemed to drag me towards its general direction, like a magnet about to claim its metallic prey. Sylvia seemed startled, rushing towards me instantly, panicked. 

"Dylan...what happened?"

"My brother..."

"Dylan we can make it, we can - "

"It might be too late!"

The gem burned ever-brighter now, and I sank to my knees, powerless to stop it from doing its job. She held onto me, wrapping me in her arms and holding me until it was all over, and the jewel resumed its normal glow. Sylvia reached for it, this time swiping the item and placing it inside her pocket. 

"I need that..."

"Dylan, it will rob you of your very essence if you carry it for much longer. I will hold onto it for now."

"But my magic!"

"That is a risk that needs to be taken." She insisted, the bliss from the evening before cooled into determination. "Which way?"

I pointed in the general direction, using the Dryad's bracelet as the compass, and she ushered me back to my feet. We were forced to negotiate the dense forest, with no natural or eroded path to take. The mountains were far behind us, though I swore I could make out the very mountain I had eroded a few days prior. It was too far away to make it out for sure. My hand burned, but I shoved it in my pocket and gritted my teeth. Sylvia easily kept up alongside me, pausing only to retrieve more of the meat she had on her person. We ate quickly, standing and continuing our journey when we had finished. Hours drifted by as we began to trek a noticeably steep incline, so much so that eventually we were reduced to our hands and knees. I checked the bracelet for clarification, but it never wavered. There were no other paths to take either. 

"Dylan...about last night." Sylvia whispered, surprising me by how...awkward she sounded now. "I must apologize if I...forced you into..."

"Sylvia, that was incredible."

She smiled to herself, obviously feeling the same way, yet her face cooled instantaneously. 

"But what happens if you make it home...and I have to remain here?"

I held her hand there and then. It was incredibly risky considering we needed them to continue climbing, but it worked in stopping her doubt in its tracks. 

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

She seemed confused, so I stroked her hand with my thumb to assure her everything was just fine. 

"We say that back in my world. It means that we'll deal with the problem when we get to the problem."

She nodded, rubbing my hand with her fingers in response, and we broke physical contact to continue our climb. 

It was exhausting, but we found ourselves on a level footing when we finally decided to rest. The bracelet continued to pull in the direction of the ruins, stronger than ever before. The sun was burning high in the sky now, intensifying the already-warm air. I felt perspiration all over my face, thirst begging me to take a drink. Sylvia felt the same way, clambering towards a nearby stream of water. We held for the liquid with outstretched arms, taking our fill before sitting on the ground to rest. Several Oenixph flew through the sky - a welcome sight in these normally dire circumstances. I closed my eyes for just a moment, relieved to find that my hand no longer burned...

Without warning, a stab of pain flickered through my palm, and I swore to myself for talking too soon. The air around us suddenly became more and more hostile, right up until Sylvia reached for the jewel, forcing my palm to accept it. I writhed on the ground for several minutes, allowing it to accept my magic - and my pain - while our surroundings gradually returned to normal. I panted for air that wasn't reaching my lungs quickly enough, desperate for water even after I had felt content just moments before. The pain dulled suddenly, but it never disappeared, and the jewel was wrested from me again. I felt disorientated, the world spinning around me. 

"Dylan?" Sylvia whispered, but her face was turning towards something else - something else entirely. 

In my semi-delerious state, I had never seen the flashes of light, the sonic booms that accompanied a teleportation. Three members of the Ackbl Ightkn marched towards us, with Medea leading her hand-picked partners towards us. Their swords were drawn, though the Archerse beside her raised their palms as well, subtle magic glowing around their palms. 

"It pains me to do this, Sylvia, but-" Medea began, but I never had time to figure out the rest of her sentence as Sylvia grabbed me, suddenly enveloping in a bright light, and I knew we had teleported higher up the sharp incline. I doubled over, coughing and gasping for air while Sylvia dragged me further. More flashes of light, and I knew that Medea and the Ackbl Ightkn were right behind us. I felt a flamed bolt whiz past my ear, catching itself in the bark of those strange trees and catching fire instantly. Sylvia teleported us again, placing ourselves higher and higher - only for our pursuers to follow suit. 

"How are you doing that?" I cried, and noticed that her hand was wrapped around the amulet, continuing to burn just as brightly as it had before. She was using the magic that was stolen from me to aid her spells. 

More bolts of energy, much larger and deadlier this time, and I suddenly felt the barrier wrap itself around us, Sylvia's magic preventing anything from making contact with us. My hand burned again, but in the midst of all this madness I couldn't care less. A storm quickly began to brew above our heads, lightning striking the ground nearby, thunder following soon after. 

"Look!" Sylvia yelled, and I turned to face the large structure waiting for us at the top of this incline. The walls were made of brick, dated and worn over decades of time. They reminded me somewhat of the ruins of Machu Picchu - could they have been connected somehow?

Sylvia reached for her sword, striking the barrier with all her might while the Archerse assaulted it with spells of their own. They were invisible, though it seemed they had managed to solidify the air for offensive rather than defensive purposes. 

"We're going to teleport inside - then we split up!" Sylvia yelled at me, and I couldn't even stop and ask her why before the familiar burst of brilliant light forced us right inside the structure itself. I felt a sense of vertigo, only to find that I was actually falling. Sylvia screamed alongside me, clearly as startled by this development as I had. The ruins themselves were borrowed deep underground, and the floor below stretched itself before us. I reached her hand, furiously holding on as she muttered an arcane spell mid-air. Another barrier winked into existence, wrapping itself around us just as we struck the ground below us, shattering it instantly. I landed on my shoulder, instantly dislocating it and sending ever more licks of pain across the entire limb. I couldn't get up, I couldn't move, and when I finally found Sylvia alongside me I knew she was in much the same condition. 

Dylan....Dylan....

That name, and the voice attached to it, forced me to look around while I cradled my now-useless arm. I was still in Rongholdst​, there was no way I could hear his voice here...

"Aaron!" I shouted, rushing towards Sylvia and helping her up in earnest. His voice was everywhere, echoing inside this cavernous place, littered with symbol after unknown symbol. They covered the walls, representing hieroglyphs, 
Another band of light, and I found myself pushed towards the floor, a sword brushing up against my neck. It cut lightly into my skin, drawing a faint trickle of blood. 

"For Rongholdst - you will perish!" She cried, grabbing my injured arm and jerking it at an unnatural angle. I screamed, the ruins around us reverberating as my hazardous magic came into play. Debris soon fell from the ceiling above us. 

"He means no harm!" Sylvia yelled, but her efforts to apprehend her former friend failed when Medea forced her elbow across her face. She fell to the ground, blood spilling where Medea had broken her nose. 

"He destroyed Osperitypr, and Litudeso! Your claim is worthless, and you were his associate!"

Dylan...Dylan...

Aaron was here, somewhere. His voice was crystal-clear. I tried to move towards the source of his voice, only for Medea to pull me right back. I could catch my reflection against the steel of her sword, and I saw my panicked face inside it. 

"Medea?"

Another voice, one I that sounded distantly familiar, and Medea removed her weapon from my neck, releasing me as she bowed at the figure before us. 

"Lord Ulric." She whispered in awe, and that was the first time I noticed that she pursued us alone. Her Archerse were nowhere to be seen. "I have apprehended the criminals. They will, of course, be put to death by my hand."

"And who gave you those orders?" The knight before us questioned, his armor so dark and harrowing that no light seemed to escape from it. It resembled a black hole, something that could suck you in and destroy you if you ventured too close to it. 

"The King and Queen themselves, members of the fabled Ndnesski line!" She responded, reciting it like a time-honored tradition. He moved towards her then, every step in his enormous armor sending large metallic clangs throughout the underground cavern. 

Dylan...Dylan...

"You have done well." He announced - before raising his palm and snapping his fingers. 

It had all occurred so quickly, I had almost missed just what had happened. Medea's eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she collapsed in a heap, silent and still. 

"Medea!" Sylvia screamed, launching herself towards her body and covering her with her hands and tears, sobbing and angry. I couldn't help but stare at the monster in front of me, peering down towards me like he was superior in every way. My neck continued to bleed, my arm as damaged as ever. My uninjured palm continued to burn intensely, but any magic it was causing could not touch us here. 

Dylan...

"I really must admit - I did not expect to see you here, Dylan Weathers." The knight continued, startling me with the mention of my full name. I tried to stand up but I couldn't, powerless to help myself or Sylvia as I backed myself towards her. Our hostile companion continued to move forward, his feet creating slight dents in the ground they stood on, indicative at just how heavy his armor truly was. "I must have caught the wrong Weathers - I was truly sure it was Aaron who possessed the Eamersdr gift. It's almost a shame to see him suffer now, but no matter."

"What did you do to Aaron?" I responded, the anger boiling inside me too much to contain any longer. 

So I allowed it to consume me.

I held it before me, so lightning-quick nobody in this cavern had time to react to it. I allowed my anger to channel itself towards the magic I was about to perform, yelling as loudly as I could and sending a ballistic shockwave directly in the knight's path. It tore up the space between me and him, striking him dead-center...only to pass through him. 

Impossible.

"A fine spell." He commented, checking his armor where my anger had struck, satisfied when there was nothing to suggest that it was damaged in any way. I had expended myself completely with my bout of hostile magic, and I knew I was powerless. He reached for his darkened helmet, tearing it off and allowing it to tumble to his feet. 

"It's...too...late...Dylan..." I could hear Aaron's voice whisper in my ear - and then it was gone. 

I knew this man, and the smile that accompanied him now. I grew pale, shocked and repulsed. It made so much sense now, everything made so much sense now. 

"Otker!" I yelled, powerless to do anything but listen to his cackled laugh in retaliation.

22: Apterch Entytw - otw

-Sylvia-

The ground shook below me, literally and even metaphorically. The ruins had begun to collapse into itself. Dust and debris hazed around us in a smothering mist, the light from the outside came down in streams. I could not see where Dylan and that man had gone, but I could still hear them- and their magic. I could feel it burning into the very core of our world, and if it continued at the pace it was going at, all life would be snuffed out like the blowing of a candle flame. Flickering out of existence, just like the Eamersdr of ancient times. The ground shook, and in the distance I could hear the crash of waves from a nearby sea. Rain poured down, summoned unwillingly by the Eamersdr that fought furiously elsewhere. 

Dylan had completely lost all sense. I had seen his face just before chaos had reigned. His eyes burned and begun to glow a furious red color. Like a demon came straight from the ashes it was born from. It was frightening, and I knew his power had completely consumed him. 

The winds rose and begun to blow vigorously, an unholy malice had been laced in its whisper. The air stung all it touched, flicking about shards of brick. It left cuts all over me, but that was nothing to me. For all I knew then, my world had ended as soon as Medea had.

Echoes of her laughter were all I heard, the ringing of the booming thunder caused by Dylan's magic had left me deaf - nothing but the ring of my ears were there to accompany that sweet sound. That day we set out to Osperitypr.. had I known that would be the last I would see of her smile. When she left our company straight from Cluny, after the court was held by the Satyrs. She had embraced me, and I took it for granted. How I wished I could go back and replay that moment! Set aside my foolish pride, and just brought her closer to me. I'd have begged her. Fallen at her feet and pleaded. 

I could hear furious yells, and feel the ripples of the excess magic being unleashed weigh down on me. The man Dylan knew as Otker was taunting him, and Dylan was easily succumbing to his anger.

Just as I was succumbing to my sorrow. 

My poor Medea. My sweet sister. How terrible an end she had met. I could not stop myself from hugging her body close, while weeping freely. Something I would have never thought to do when she had lived. I had never even gotten a chance to say goodbye. Did she hate me when she died? Did she know why it was I stood against her? Oh, and how would Arlen react when he knew the only living family he had perished?  

The ruins shook once more, causing dust to rain down on me. The sound of the pouring rain had mixed with the sound of the winds, as they grew fiercer and fiercer. Lightning flashed, and very briefly I could see the silhouettes of the Eamersdr. They clashed fiercely against each other- swarms of spells parrying the others. I could see the magic they had swirl about them, colors I could never describe emitting from their very skin. 

Their power was suffocating, and I found myself wishing I could drown in it.

I closed my eyes, pressing Medea's cheek to my own.

"Wake up.." I whispered at first, repeating it over and over until I felt a familiar rage build up inside me. Medea was never one to listen to me, and now she could not even hear me. "Wake up!" I screamed, shaking her lifeless body. Her silky golden hair fell free from the binds that held it, framing her lovely face. She looked lovelier than ever, and she could not ever gloat about it. "Just this once, please..! Please listen to me! Wake up!" Taking hold of her face, I turned it to face me. "You will listen to me! Breathe!"

She was still warm, but that would soon change. The colder she became, the more real the loss of her rushed in. Why had this happened? She was too young. She hadn't even fulfilled her dream of becoming a full fledged Knight. Still a companion-at-arms. I could remember how excitedly she had spoken it to me - and how easily I had dismissed her. We did not share the same dreams and aspirations, but we did share a bond. We had vowed to support each other, and because of that a kinsman ship had been formed. We were sisters. We were friends, and I had loved her dearly. 

Weep not, young one. Came a ghostly voice. Before me stood many Dryads, forming from the roots that hung down from the ceiling of the ruins, as well as roots protruding from the floor. They twisted and wrapped themselves until they formed into the shape of women. Now is not the time for your grief.

They waved their hands made of vine over Medea's body, and soon it began to dissipate like steam. Her body no longer solid, rose like streams of mist until their was nothing left. I quickly tried to grasp at it, trying desperately to keep her in my arms. But she was gone. Falling mad to my sorrow, I clawed furiously at the ground where she had laid, hoping that if I continued she would be restored to me. I clawed so hard my nails had broke, and the skin scraped. My blood soon covered the ground, as well as the tears that fell. 

A soft gentle hand was placed over my own, green like first bloom of life in spring. It was cool to the touch, vibrating with energy. The Dryads had surrounded me, hushing me into silence. 

Hush now, child. Said one.

We will guide her to the next life.

We are the Dryads.

And we are the angels, known to the ones in a different world.

They praise our name.

And you do the same.

Hush now, child. Now is not the time for your grief.

The hand was removed, and replaced with a thin blade. One that I had recognized well, and had made fun of many times. The rapier Medea had forged herself during the time she had spent as a Squire. The blade she had named Guardian. 

The roof above us had been torn, and sent flying off quickly into the distant sea. The Dryads that had formed from it wailed in pain and rotted into the floor. The remaining ones looked to where the Eamersdr yet battled. They had summoned such forceful winds that tornados had begun to form, swirling in the distance from all sides. The Dryads brought their hands to their mouth, plainly riddled with distress. 

The earth shook again as the two collided against each other. Their magic sent me flying into the Dryads, who caught me and held me in place.

I clung to my pack, as well as Guardian. I would not let it go, even if it killed me, I would cling to that blade as though it were Medea herself. My hair was shriveling in every direction, some even found its way into my mouth. The tears still forming in my eyes were sent flying away as well. 

The sea became agitated, and I could feel the pounding of the waves against the side of the ruins. It clashed almost as fiercely as the Eamersdr. The salt water sent flying, mixing in with the water that rained from the chaotic skies. Where the clouds had seemingly battled amongst themselves, collapsing into itself, and forming one great grey storm cloud. It leaked its vengeful electrifying strike. Threatening everything below with its mighty power.

The world is in peril! The Eamersdr needs you, child. You must listen to us! The Dryads urged,  still retaining the sweetness of their voice. 

Dylan needed me. But how could I possibly help? I was powerless. Always relying on his magic, or Medea. I couldn't save her. And when she had pursued us, all I could do was run. I was useless, and Dylan would fair better without any aid. 

I looked towards him, seeing nothing but blurs colliding. Their magic sent ricocheting everywhere, a great calamity for everything it touched. Dryads were slowly dying as their roots were ripped from the ground. 

I gripped Guardian tighter, remembering a conversation once had.

*

"Why do you wish to be a Knight?" I had once asked her. She smiled at me, while continuing her practice with her newly forged rapier. 

"You and Grandfather are much more alike than you care to admit, Sylvia." she laughed, parrying an invisible foe. I scoffed in return, thinking the notion to absurd to entertain. He and I were vastly different in character! And I was sure to make mention of it. 

"I should hope not. For one, he is very old." 

She agreed with me on that point, making sure to repeat it.

"He is very powerful as well. And grumpy! I am-'"

"Weak and grumpy?" she jested with a teasing smile. I made a face, choosing not to retaliate in that moment. 

"I was going to say beautiful and unyielding." I struck a dramatic pose for emphasis, to which she laughed and set down her blade. Sitting by my side, she brushed some of my hair from my face and examined me. This had been when she always tried to make me blush, and she would soon learn that it was a hard feat to make me do so.

"You are indeed both those." She nodded. "But we were not speaking of things to boost your ego, were we?'"

"Of course not. So, why become a Knight?" Her face was contemplative, lost as her eyes grew distant as they stared emptily at the tree in front of us. I waved my hands trying to catch her attention, thinking she looked quite dumb. When it had not worked, I called to her. She had begun to stroke her thumb over the hilt of her sword as she gripped it. And then I realized why she had looked so distant, it was because she was thinking of her past. And what a sad one it was, as I soon came to learn.

She looked at me, smiling slightly through her sadness.

"Did you know that my parents were killed a few years ago?" She had said, obviously thinking upon them. Her eyes were set on me, though.. they had gazed passed my form. I could only shake my head, unsure of how to speak of such a delicate matter. I had no opinion on such things, as I had never known such loss. "It was done right in front of me, and I could do nothing. My magic was not strong enough then. Not quick enough.'"

She sighed, looking down to the floor. Her eyes became red, and I knew she was fighting back her tears. "I vowed then, that I would never allow something like that to happen again. My grandfather is the only family I have left. He does not understand.. magic cannot be the answer to everything.."

 I turned my head to the hut, unsure of how this answered my question.

"You have become something like kin to me as well, Sylvia. I made a promise when I joined the order, and I made a promise when forging my sword, Guardian. I will never let harm come to the things I love ever again. Not while I yet breathe."

*

I thought her silly. But then, as I held Guardian in my grasp I could almost hear the promise she had made reverberate through me. As though it were magic itself. I understood why she became a Knight. It was to stop things like that from happening. Medea loved Rongholdst, and all in it. I could not let it fall to shambles. 

I remembered my promise to Dylan, telling him I would see him safely returned home. I remembered my family, and how I wished to return home and see them once more. I thought of Arlen, and how he would need more than ever then. Medea's promise became my own, and I resolved to help put an end to it once and for all. No matter the cost, even if I would never see Dylan again. 

"What is it you need me to do?" I turned my head to gaze at the desperate Dryads. They seemed relieved at how responsive I had become. 

Long ago, those who supported the Eamersdr gathered here. They used magic to help one escape to the other world. Their line was obviously continued. Magic is nothing but a word in the other world, you must call to gather the same circle that sent the Eamersdr to the other world, and we will cast them away, to where they rightfully belong.'

"Who do I gather? How do I do it?" We had to move quickly, lest Dylan and his foe completely torn the world asunder. The Dryads, glided across the remainder of the floor, ushering me to stairs that led deeper into the unstable ruins. There was no time to fear for my safety, no time for hesitance, and off we went deeper into catacombs of the ruins. The air around us shuttered as we ran down the stairs, where we collided into more of the Ackbl Ightkn. The Dryads recoiled in fear of them, not me however. I became furious at the sight of them, and quickly brought up Guardian. I yelled at them to leave us alone as I had thrust the blade towards them. We were all knocked off our feet then, sent tumbling down the long winding stairs and landing in a heap at the bottom. The earth became more violent every time it shook. I groaned, slowly turning to try and gather myself. A gasp was heard from my side, and I could feel the person beneath me stiffen. 

"Sir Gregory!" Said the one at my side, who quickly pulled himself up. He was a younger man, wearing black robes instead of the usual black armor. He had spectacles placed upon the bridge of his nose, the lenses had been cracked from the fall. "She wields Lady Medea's sword, Guardian!" He pointed in my direction. I felt myself being flung into the wall effortlessly. The other Knight who had been with the young man was very broad and very tall. His beard was grey and thick, and looked itchier than my cheapest clothing. He pulled his own broad sword on me as I turned to strike him with Guardian in retaliation for throwing me. Our swords clashed, but my strength was not enough to hold back the burly older man. He pushed me back against the wall once more, pressing his sword into my throat. I glared at him defiantly, daring him to do it.

"Where is the girl? Do you see Medea, Josef?" He asked, his voice sounded much different than what I had thought it would be. It was smooth, and clear, ringing with valour. The way Medea would describe it would have been Knightly. 

"Please, stay your blade." Came the Dryads voice, and quickly the younger one had patted on Sir Gregory's shoulder. An pathetic attempt to dissuade him from slicing open my throat. He slowly complied, not turning to see who commanded him without first ripping Guardian from my grasp. 

"Give it back!" I protested, only to be shoved roughly into the stone wall. At the sight of the Dryads Sir Gregory had let me go, and fell to his knees before them. The younger one simply looked between the two, seemingly amused. I took back Guardian, continuing forward into the open room of the catacomb. The younger man, Josef, followed close behind me as the Dryads were left to speak with Sir Gregory. 

"What happened to Medea?" He asked sounding very bored as he pushed his spectacles higher up the bridge of his nose. We stopped to brace ourselves as another tremor nearly sent us falling to the floor once more.

"Dead." I responded numbly. He simply nodded as we looked about the room. On the floor were strange markings, almost like an alchemical symbol. Upon the walls were murals of different races, drawn by primitive hands. There were the Elves, the Dryads, the Centaurs, and the ancient order of the Ackbl Ightkn. They were bowing towards the centerpiece of the art work, their arms stretched high emitting a magic of their own. There, standing atop a great fortress that I recognized as the ruins, were people with lights glowing about them, and swirls of color rested at their feet. The Eamersdr. This was what we needed to do. What I needed to do. 

There had to be a gathering of the those who were loyal to the Eamersdr. Together, we could send them back.. just as it had been done in the old day. 

Josef leaned forward, examining the mural much more closely. 

"Interesting." Was all he said before turning towards me. I raised an eyebrow at the odd man, wondering what he was about. "Well, are you not going to summon them?" He asked. 

"How did-"

"I am an acolyte training to be the next Grand Historian in the order. Of course I need to know every single detail of the history of Rongholdst. You have my support, my magic is yours should you need it. I had suspected Sir Ulric to be up to no good." The Ackbl Ightkn were more resourceful than I had previously thought. How much power did they truly have? I could not ponder upon it for long, as there was much that needed to be done. I could not wait for a messenger bird to summon them. No, I would have to use magic to make them appear. Sir Gregory and the Dryads entered the room, taking a spot at our side. 

With one last attempt to clear my mind, I gripped at Guardian, taking a knee and bending my brow to its grip. Medea was strong, Arlen was strong, Dylan was strong.. I too, had to become the same. No more would come to suffer simply because I could not carry my own weight. 

I began to chant a summoning spell I had read in one of Arlen's spell book once. The Dryads were present, the order had been present. I thought hard upon the stallion that had led the Centaurs, and then I had thought hard upon Liora, and Javaid. 

"Rongholdst is relying on us. The Eamersdr is summoning you to use your magic to shield your home from destruction. Let us stay the hand of chaos together, as we had in ancient times."

I could feel the very fabric of life flow within me, propelling my will into fruition. By my word, anything would come to be. And it had been so, as the space around us rippled, and out came those who were summoned.

They all nodded to me, awaiting my orders. 

"We must send them from whence they came!"

23: Apterch Entytw - Reeth

-Dylan-

He laughed, the doctor in my world and the lord of the Ackbl Ightkn in Sylvias. Without thinking, driven with all my feelings of guilt and rage, I raised my palm and felt the surge of senseless magic escape from it. Another shockwave, more powerful this time in the way it effortlessly tore away the cobbled flooring beneath us. Otker wasn't going to allow his armor to absorb the impact this time, however, garnishing his sword and swiping the hostile air. It parted effortlessly, which only made me more aggressive. I could feel the vibrations around the ruins - the structure around us failing, ready to crumble. 

"You killed Aaron." I mumbled aggressively, too enraged to pay any attention to Sylvia, crying and coiled around Medea's still body. I was far too angry to feel anything else but utter hatred towards the Eamersdr in front of me. Roots began to move and grow around me, surrounding me but doing little else - it couldn't be the Dryads, could it?

It didn't matter. I was dead in my world, and I didn't care in destroying the both of us here as revenge: I had nothing to lose. 

"Why, don't get me wrong, Aaron was nothing but the best patient a doctor could ask for." He responded, casting his sword high up into the air before slicing at me, unleashing a shockwave of his own. It collided against my chest, knocking the wind out of my body and dumping what was left twenty feet away. "However, I was becoming suspicious of you from the moment you stepped foot inside that hospital. A fault of mine, choosing the wrong brother...but that problem can easily be rectified..."

He lunged for me then, and the terrible pain shot through my arm as the volatile magic took hold once again. I was surrounded in the now-familiar shade of white, disappearing from his grasp and reappearing at the other end of this broken room. The broken light which peered through the ruin's opening had turned dark, and a tremor nearly knocked me off my balance. My teeth bared, I held my hand directly in front of my enemy, and  could feel the intense burning sensation as a million flickers of flame escaped my fingers. They danced towards him, surrounding him and engulfing him...only to fade away in a heartbeat and leaving my opponent untouched. 

This drove me out of any claim to reason that I had. 

Screaming, charging, I dashed towards him only to be parried back with yet another kinetic shockwave. I rose to my feet again, completely ignorant to the blood now gushing along the entire length of my arm, and charged again. More flames escaped my hand, but were deflected as easily as before. 

"Your magic controls you." Otker proclaimed, his sword menacing as it reflected the darkened light from above. "I've spent years studying this kingdom and its culture - exactly how do you plan on defeating me?"

More flames, more effortless resistance from Otker. In my anger, my unhinged fury, I aimed to punch him - dead center in his face. 

Of course, he countered my less magical offense as well, grabbing my fist with his armored counterpart. I could feel bone snapping easily as he tossed me aside like a child. 

"I could teach you so much, Dylan Weathers."

I could feel the boundless anger and magic wane slightly, my adrenaline exhausted and replaced with nothing at all. He was staring down at me, the same reassuring smile I had associated with him, out of place with the chaos all around us. My hand burned, but no magic came about from it. I searched for Sylvia, hoping to use the amulet to my advantage and harbor its energy, 

She was nowhere to be seen - damn it!

"Think about it - we both have the ability. We can travel between worlds. We can leave our lives in New York behind, and become the rulers of Rongholdst. We will be almighty, people will bow to our will!"

"No-one is bowing to your will!" I cried. "Not even me!"

A vicious side-swipe to my cheek, and I spun towards the fragile ground below me. For a second all I would see were stars, and the further crumbling of the ruins around us. The hieroglyphs could have offered any number of clues for me, but they crumbled to the ground, eliminating my only chance. I felt Otker's boot strike my side, and the same sensation I felt with the car crash took hold. His kick easily broke my ribs, and I coughed out blood - and more of it than usual. 

"I have spent decades keeping me and my ability hidden from this world, planning to take over this pathetic kingdom! You will not stop me now."

Sylvia...whatever she was doing, wherever she was gone, she was my only hope. 

I needed to stall him, just enough to pray for a miracle. I felt exhausted, yet I channeled enough of my energy into my palm, praying that the spell I caused would be enough to buy me some more time. Otker marched towards me, sick of playing this little game and raising his sword up high. 

"Goodbye, Eamersdr."

Before he could strike, I could feel my palm brush against his chest plate, and it was then that I realized that I was standing, just for a split-second. Sure enough, the pain from my earlier injuries sent me crashing to my knees - but not before my spell was done. 

Otker seemed unfazed for a moment, only to glance at where my hand touched his armor and gaze at my molten handprint that remained. It glowed a vicious orange, spreading slowly throughout the rest of his armor. His composure was forgotten, and I could hear him scream as I fought to move away from him while I had the chance. Otker glared at me in absolute anger, his chest piece completely engulfed in heat and spreading still through the rest of his suit. He clawed at it, only for his hands to recoil at the melting metal, his eyes darting from place to place in an effort to find anything that could save him.

"Dylan!"

I backed myself against the nearest wall I could find as his anger suddenly turned to screams, the boiling heat from his suit of armor literally boiling him from the inside out. He sacrificed his arms in the small hope that they could tear the metal off of him, but it was already beginning to melt and ooze towards the ground. I fought to catch any and every breath I could, powerless to do anything but to sit here and watch. The sky above flashed a vicious bolt of lightning, striking the ground between us and igniting whisps of fire from the dying branches that stood there. Otker's movements slowed, but his armor had melted so quickly that it had now become nothing but a liquid state, dripping from his charred body and creating a pool around him. 

I need to use more spells like that! 

Sylvia was yet to be seen - where was she? 

"You think you have bested me?"

My attention was drawn towards my enemy, subdued in a subtle glow, his broken and charred flesh refusing to burn any longer.

"You think a simple trick like that would stop me? Lord Ulric of Rongholdst? I will not be defeated by a mere boy!"

I couldn't do a thing to stop this - my body was broken and defeated, my magic all but expended. It took all of my concentration and effort simply to look at the monster in the eye, and even that proved an immeasurable challenge. He couldn't win. He couldn't become the ruler of this place - the destruction he would cause was almost unbearable to think about. 

"What I had done to your brother...was a kindness!" He fumed, his face still torn and charred from the intense heat, yet now he was able to stand on his two feet and proudly march towards me as if it no longer mattered. "I could have ended him, oh so easily. Just a click of my fingers and he would have died. You are going to wish you had met the came fate as he did!" 

I tried to raise my palm again, but my broken ribs made that all but impossible. 

"I'm going to savor every second in torturing you, making sure you are still alive just so you can feel the most tragic pain imaginable! I want your girl to see, so she can run and speak of the glorious ruler decimating his prey! Be glad, Weathers! She may yet live and be of use to me!"

I couldn't do it...the one time I needed hostile magic more than anything else on the planet, and I failed. 

He grabbed my throat, the smell of charred flesh making my eyes water as I gasped for air. I was effortlessly lifted from my feet, hanging from the air and powerless to stop anything. Otker - now a horrifying demon compared to the man he once was, bore into my eyes with his own, his pupils dilating. 

And that was when mine exploded in pain. 

It spread quickly, his arcane spell weaving through my face and reaching every nerve in my body as his grip around my neck tightened. I couldn't move, paralyzed from this terrible magic. I became deaf, blind, mute as the curse destroyed me from the inside out. All I wanted was for the madness to end, so I could finally see Aaron again, to tell him how sorry I was or failing him...

"By order of the Ndnesski line, we order you to cease!"

I was just barely able to register the threat, and suddenly I found myself battered away, crumpled in a heap. Sweet air rushed towards my lungs again, and I gasped as much of it as I could. The pain itself had mercifully stopped, leaving only mental scars in its place. For a while I wasn't able to make sense of anything, my vision horribly altered. 

"And just who was brave enough to utter such an order?" Otker retaliated, feigning disinterest and surveying the crowd that had followed Sylvia back into the ruins. Members of the Ackbl Ightkn followed - yet they stood by her side, not against her. Satyrs and Centaurs took up smart flanking positions beside her, surrounding Ulric from almost all sides. Oenixph cascaded into the air above us, dodging and weaving around the falling debris of an unstable ceiling. Two more figures took to Sylvia's side, their beauty more pronounced than anything I had ever seen before. The woman was especially beautiful, her crystal eyes fixed on nothing but their enemy. Her counterpart, in complete contrast, was channeling all of his emotions into his snarl, ready to lunge forward and engage at a moments notice. 

"I was!" Sylvia announced, wielding Medea's sword and pointing it squarely towards Otker. "You will surrender, and you will return to your homeworld. Rongholdst can no longer accommodate you. "

He laughed, suddenly and without hesitation. Scars still singed across the length of his skin, molten fragments of his armor still sizzling. I struggled to catch some air, feeling the vibrations of the unstable ruins with my relatively uninjured hand. 

"Dear girl...I'm not going anywhere."

The male elf uttered a war-cry, his glistening teeth bared, reaching for his longsword and charging towards him. I tried to warn him, to tell him of just how dangerous he was, but it was far too late. 

"Javaid!" His counterpart screamed, powerless to stop Otker from unleashing his own sword, clashing with the elfen metal that struck against it. The elf's weapon snapped into fragments effortlessly, scattered around its surprised owner. 

One more counter-strike, and Javaid fell. 

I didn't have time to register this, as an enormous earthquake rattled the entire length and breath of this cavern...before the ground parted beneath all of us. The walls around us crumbled, pillars upon pillars of rock and earth rushing around us as we all suddenly fell towards our deaths...

*

Was this it? Was I dead?

I could barely make out where I was, my vision was so hazy that only colors stood out in any meaningful way. Even the sounds I had come to associate with my city simply sounded...wrong. 
I was dead...in both worlds. I was dead and so was Aaron. Rongholdst would fall soon after, and Otker would have gotten everything he had set out to do. Sylvia would die along with the rest of them...Sylvia. 

She did nothing wrong. She, and the rest of her world, were simply caught up with the terror of the Eamersdr. 

Dylan?

Aaron? Aaron!

He was still alive, which meant we were still alive. I thought he was gone, and I could feel his emotions swell in the precise same way as mine. We were both happy to see each other, thinking we had lost the other. 

I couldn't do it Aaron. He's just too strong and I wasn't and I...

Dylan. Everything will be fine. Trust me.

It took me a second to realize just what I heard. The frequency of his words, the confident tone he displayed when he said them. I swore I could hear a faint chuckle when he realized my realization. 

Aaron...you can...

I know, but Dylan we need to focus on Otker now. He's become much too powerful for anyone to apprehend him, but what had happened may give us a lucky break.

What? Aaron...what are you talking about?

There's no time to explain. All I know is that he is strong enough to use magic in both of our worlds, and if his spell is wearing off here...

Then that means he may no longer be powerful enough to use it?

Precisely! When the ruins collapsed...you need to go back there. You need to go back there now.

I didn't know what to say or do. The elation of listening to my brother's unfiltered voice one last time was overwhelming. I couldn't focus on anything but that. 

Dylan, remember that song we used to sing when we were younger? The song you made up when you were afraid of the thunderstorms?

Y-yes. why?

We need to go to sleep, Dylan.

I caught on to the idea immediately. Aaron wasn't drugged. His eyelids were deliberately closed. He was trying to sleep.

'Thunder lies outside
but we are safe in here.
I have you by my side
to keep the monsters over there.

As long as you are near,
there's no need to cry.
The thunder stays outside,
No need...to shed...a tear...
...
...
...

*

-Aaron-

So this was what it's like, to be here.

They were scattered everywhere, some of the Ackbl Ightkn buried under rubble and stone, others laying lifelessly beside them, their limbs tilted at unnatural positions. Fires blared all around me, their smoke rising towards the small window of light far above our heads. 

They must have fallen 100 feet, perhaps more. It would be a miracle for anyone to have survived this. 

I found Dylan, lying mercifully above the wreckage, but he was tilted at an arcane angle, groaning but unable to wake up. A large chunk of stone had trapped his leg, and moving it would be impossible. 

I swore.

Looking around, it was clear that almost nobody else had survived the fall. Bodies were strewn everywhere, virtually all of the Archerse and the Elven woman alongside...
She was breathing, the 'Sylvia' I had seen in my dreams, traveling along with my brother throughout this entire world. I risked leaving Dylan behind for a split second while I focused my attentions on helping her. She had what we needed. I reached my arms around her, thankful that there seemed to be no terminal injuries done to her, and hefted her over my shoulder. She moaned in pain, yet she was as light as a feather. I could hear movement directly behind us, and a tremor rocked the unstable ground below. There was no doubt that we could fall further into the abyss of the mountain below - I had to act fast. 

"You...I know you!" She claimed, stirring into consciousness and recognizing me in a heartbeat. I chuckled, even in the dire set of circumstances around us. 

"I had to help my brother out."

"But Dylan...he claimed that you had perished!"

"I would have..."

The object I was looking for, that amulet that hung loosely around her neck, was the key to everything. It glowed as bright as it always had, the magic inside virtually untouched. 

"Sylvia listen to me. Otker is unconscious and we need to act now! As soon as he wakes up, he'll paralyze me again, so listen to what I have to say."

She seemed to be suffering the initial stages of shock - her eyes were darting on insignificant details around us, her breathing was rushed and her skin had turned porcelain-white. Despite that she seemed to understand what I was trying to say, trying her best to keep her eyes on me. 

"You have to return us to our world, Sylvia, but there's something else you need to do...You need to help us forget."

She didn't understand - Of course she didn't understand. I was about to repeat myself when I heard the colossal weight of boulders slamming into the cavern around us, and the monster who emerged from where they stood. I didn't have time to repeat myself, and I hoped Sylvia had listened enough to understand what I was talking about. 

"You didn't choose the wrong Weathers." I announced confidently to the burn-assaulted man, and the anger and rage that flashed across his face. Sylvia tried her best to raise her weapon but failed, looking at me with hints of recognition and fear. 

Otker snapped his fingers, and that was the last thing I saw.

 

24: Apterch Entytw - Urfo

-Sylvia-

Madness.

That was the only thing that came to mind at the time. The world I knew before seemed so innocent in comparison to what I had known it to become. Though...it was always as such, I was only ignorant to it. 

The world was chaos, and ashes. It was ruins and despair. People-- good people fell to these things, and I...I had been all but powerless to stop it. But that wasn't the case was it? I did have power, though not my own. I still held it in my hands. Just as Aaron had told me. Poor, sweet Aaron. 

From that simple encounter I knew he was intelligent. This Lord Ulric had stolen that from him. He had stolen everything. From the trust of the good king of Rongholdst, the entirety of the Ndnesski house. The people of our world and perhaps theirs. He stole the lives of many good men and women, and we would allow him no more. 

All around me lay many of the fallen comrades I had accumulated. With one swift motion - as quick as they came, they were gone. They had risen to the duty we, as an entire nation had needed to heed. They had answered to the beck and call of the will of the situation, and they died for its cause. I only wished they were given a fighting chance. My brashness had marched them straight into their graves. 

My musings were broken as the bellows of Lord Ulric rang all around. It was an unearthly sound - inhuman, the call more beastly than anything I had heard before then. Those ferocious cries he let loose were matched only by that of the stormy seas. 

He was gathering his power, I could feel it whip around. That great invisible force - a God in his own right. Not righteous but cruel. It stung to breathe in his evil magic, I could feel it claw inside of me as it spread. I almost wished the fall had claimed me as well, that was how torturous it was to breathe in his company. He could not be allowed to finish gathering his magical reserves for he would destroy. And upon the ashes of the old world, I was certain he would use the dust and bones of us to build the foundation of his new world order. A sick and twisted thing. I would never come to understand why someone would want to destroy a world already so filled with beauty. Perhaps it had wronged Ulric in a way that he wished to tear the world asunder, but didn't the world cross everyone? Was it only his own madness and intoxication of the power his blood had wielded that turned him into what he was? A new world was an inevitability, this was a certain thing. But I yet loved the one I knew, and would fight for it - if only to postpone the inevitable. Ulric also seemed a terrible choice to have as a monarch, or a God...whatever it was he wanted to become.  

The winds stirred and shifted in all directions, amalgamating with his evil magic. The rain pelted wildly against all surfaces it was as cold as ice, and as sharp as needles. My head pounded from the its cold sinking down my hair and into my scalp. Another curse amongst the chaos.  

Beyond Ulric, I could see: some allies yet stirred, and with them some hope awoke in me. Not all was lost, no matter how many times Ulric would attack our people would rise again. We were strong. We were resilient. We were stubborn. This was what it meant to be a person born of Rongholdst. No matter how lowly, or how humble - no matter cowardly or noble... we, the people would fight for what we loved. Aaron had proved it, Javaid had proved it, Dylan and Medea had proved it as well. We needed to stand our ground and stay the darkness with the burning fury of our hearts. If only Medea had been there to hear my thoughts.. she would be proud at how gallant I had sounded. 

Just like a true Knight of old, she would say.

I gripped the hilt of Guardian, steeling my heart and letting the courage it gave me drive me into action.

There was little time to waste. The banishing ritual had to be preformed quickly. Aaron had spoke of what needed to be done, and it seemed so simple. But the power held within the amulet seemed like nothing in comparison to Ulric's own. I would stand my ground none the less. Ulric would pay for even thinking harm upon my home, and the people I loved. 

I felt his magic intensify ten-fold. He screamed out and howled in something akin to a triumphant laughter. The sound rattled within his throat, making it seem like a growl. It had sent shivers down my spine as he summoned twisting pillars of fire. Some of the bodies had been caught in the center of the pyres, incinerating completely in the blink of an eye. The smell of burning flesh was quick to join in the insanity. I was forced into retreating away from his terribly brilliant display of force. My might would not match his, no matter how brave I tried to be. He was strong, powerful.. but in his state of mind he was not wise. And outwitting him seemed the only way possible to the path of his defeat. 

I could hear my name echo from behind, a familiar voice, though not very calming. 

"Josef!" I tried running towards him, it ended up more of a hobble. I had taken quite some damage from the fall, though I supposed I was lucky compared to the others who hadn't made it. Josef looked relatively unharmed. "How?" I gasped noticing the state of him. He seemed like he wanted to smirk at my shock, but the situation warranted to stay against it.  

"My dear, the Ackbl Ightkn are skilled. A simple teleportation spell saw me unscathed," he explained. Josef seemed the sort to enjoy holding the facade of seeming all-knowing. And reveled in those he was able to render speechless. His slight bit of pride had been interrupted by our potential doom as he quickly jumped out of the way of fire shooting out of the ground where he once stood. Ulric had noticed us. 

"You will all kneel before my might!" he roared, his voice ringing stronger than the fury he unleashed upon the world. Josef grabbed my arm, teleporting us behind a cracked slab of stone, barely large enough to hide us both. We were relatively out of sight but it was certain he could still sense our presence. He made that clear from his laughter and taunting. "You only prolong the inevitable. Soon you will all kneel before your new God-King!" I could feel the blazing heat of fire as they twisted about, cremating the remaining bodies of the fallen. I cringed at the thought that some might had lived. 

"Where is the Eamersdr you were with?" Josef asked, rubbing his hands together to get his magic ready. 

"Ulric thinks him dead," I peeked my head out to see Dylan yet pinned between the stones, held a bit higher above the ground. He had gone unnoticed for the most part, and unharmed (From the fall that is), but his fight before had made him completely immobilized. "and your senior, Sir Gregory?"

At the older Knights mention, Josef could only give a shake of his head. He moved on quickly, as he should have, we had little time to think of the perished. Josef looked at the amulet around my neck.

"You know what we must do," he said.

"There isn't enough power. Not only do we have to banish them, we must make them forget, for surely we haven't the strength enough to kill Ulric."

"Of course." Josef agreed, "Some Dryads yet live, their roots delve deep in the earth and they yet linger. Their magic is strong, they will perform the magic needed for them to forget. You must save your Eamersdr, extract as much magic needed from him. I will try to immobilize Lord - that stardba, while you perform the banishing ritual."

I nodded at his plan, it would have to do. 

His plan was put into action quickly as he distracted Ulric as best he could. At first he ran, dodging the wild spires of fire erupting from the ground- sometimes only just missing their blows. Ulric laughed in amusement as he watched Josef. Like a cat being entertained by a ball of yarn, he disgusted me. 

"I am your Lord Ulric, leaded of the Ackbl Ightkn! And now all the lands! You are my servants, kneel!" he ordered, sending a powerful blow Josef's way. It had knocked him right off his feet and straight onto his back.

"Writhe you little worm!" 

Ulric closed his extended hand into a fist. He was using his magic to bring Josef pain. And he did writhe, contorting into a ball with pain. Josef yelled out: his eyes clenched but I could see clearly, bloody tears streaming down his face, his nose leaking much the same. 

"You..taint the name of the Ackbl Ightkn,'" screamed Josef, using some of his own magic to alleviate the pain. He managed to stagger to his feet once more, his limbs yet twitched with the lingering magic that held his muscles. "and we will never kneel before you!" He spat, sending a flare hurling towards Ulric with amazing speed. I had almost forgotten that their order held standards for their initiation, and that if one wanted to join they needed talent. Ulric shifted casually, thinking nothing of the blow Josef had sent his way.

"That is hardly enough to kill me, boy!" Yelled Ulric. His confidence ran short when he tried to advance on Josef, only to find himself rooted to the floor. He looked down, seeing he had stepped into a seal Josef had summoned as he had been distracted by the flare. Ulric growled and struggled against the seal, and Josef smirked, pouring all his focus and power into restraining Ulric.

That was all the distraction I needed. Doing my best to stick to the shadows, I had finally made it to where Dylan laid. I winced at his injuries; his bone protruded from his thigh. He was bloodied and battered, his hand sustained burns from overuse of his magic.

"Hang on, Dylan. You will go home." I promised with a whisper. The stone that pinned Dylan's leg had begun to slowly lift until it had been completely pushed over. Strong roots appeared where the stone once was. They entwined within themselves - only enough to form the head of a Dryad. The spirit smiled, and nodded. It was time to end it all. The roots sank back into the floor, every crack and crease on the ground began to glow green. The Dryads had started their memory spell. My heart was wrought with worry and contrition. Dylan needed to forget this world. He needed to forget me. That was what was best. 

Ulric was alerted by the Dryads presence, as well as our plan: Josef had his binding spell. (though it wouldn't hold for long against Ulric's might). 

I gripped Dylan's hand in mine, and with the other I unsheathed Medea's sword, pointing it in Uric's direction. The amulet grew ever-brighter as it absorbed Dylan's magic. I began the chant, it was long- perhaps in a proper ritual it would had been effective, but not in our situation. And so I decided what was needed then was innovation. I began to chant new words - a prayer almost. I was also a sorceress, and by the laws of magic my will be done. 

Ulric growled in anger and frustration. To him we were mere ants, building our colony upon his lands. We had to go. He struggled against Josef's seal.

"It is mine," he cried, "It is all mine!" and with that a wave of his invisible power boomed all around,  knocking Josef right over. He had broken free, and quickly the opportunity to attack Josef. 'You will all die!' and with a thrust of his fist the ground beneath Josef had risen, encasing him completely. I could not go and save him, not until my spell had been completed, and I knew by then it would be too late. Ulric laughed, using the stone to slowly crush the Knight to death.

"Eamersdr!" Came another voice. All attention was sent to where it had come from, and from behind the mad Lord Ulric came a staggering Liora with a dagger in hand. I assumed she had survived the fall, and had used her magic to heal herself, though the damage she had taken had called for spending all of her magic. Her eyes were weepy and blazing with fury. The loss of Javaid was fresh, and she would exact any kind of revenge granted to her. She stuck the dagger into Ulric's shoulder, only for him to grip her face. He crushed her head as if it were a grape, the image is still fresh in my mind- even to this day. It was gruesome, and my stomach had flipped at the sight. I wanted to retch, but could not for fear of stopping my spell. Javaid had broken free as Ulric was distracted, and slammed his hands back to the floor. His seal was put up once more, though it was much weaker than before. Ulric still had some form of mobility. Fortunately the Dryads memory spell had begun to take effect on him, as he gripped at his head.

"Wait!" he cried. 

"Sylvia!" Josef called, telling me to hurry. My spell would work, I just needed more power. Remembering what Aaron had told me, I grabbed Dylan's hand.. one last time. In my heart all I could feel was remorse. I would never see him again, never be able to hold his hand in mine. Not share laughter, nor adventure. I would not be able to show him what other beauty my world held, or ask him of his own. But that was for the best. The legacy of the Eamersdr was over in our world, and only alive in his. Perhaps one day they would return to Rongholdst- when we needed them. Now was not the time. And I was certain they would return. We could not kill the Eamersdr, for they were far too powerful. The memory spell would one day fade, as their magic helps them heal as well as harm. We needed to make sure we would be ready for when that day came.

"I am sorry, Dylan...goodbye." I whispered, letting the tears I held back fall freely. His power surged through me, and shot out through Guardian. Quite quickly the spell was complete.

Light and wind swirled around Ulric and Dylan both until they were completely engulfed by its power. The clouds shifted and lightning crashed down, encircling the Eamersdr as well. I had to jump away from getting shocked. The screams of Ulric rang loud - then, all at once, it was silent. The magic slowly dissipated, once cleared no trace of them had been left. They were gone.

Dylan was gone. 

I huffed and stared long at where he had once been, noticing that Aaron's body had disappeared as well. And then I cried hard, knowing it was over. I yanked the amulet from around my neck and threw it. Any light it once emitted had been all but drained from our last spell.  As silly as it was; I hugged Guardian close. 

Josef came breathing hard. He offered me no comfort only saying one thing:

"The King and Queen must be notified of this event at once! The Ackbl Ightkn need to rebuild, and require a new leader. Know anyone who can reform our once noble order?"

I did. Arlen would be a marvelous candidate. With Medea gone, I would need to tell him what her hopes were - her dreams. I was sure once Arlen knew of it, he would see adopt her wishes. As  I had.

"Yes." I said.

25: Apterch Entytw - Vefi

-Dylan-

Dark...nothing but dark. 
A few colors swam through my mind, but nothing concrete, and they disappeared just as quickly as they appeared. I was confused - and I had no idea why I was. I began to notice a dull throbbing in my temple...followed by my ribs...and everywhere else. 

Beep...Beep...Beep...

That sound...it was annoying, constant and irritating. It reminded me of an alarm clock and I tried in vain to move my arm in an effort to silence it. My eyes began to adjust to the light, and bit by bit I began to understand just where I was. An IV drip extruded from my arm, though I thought nothing of it compared to the dull sensations the rest of my body was feeling. The source of the sound came beside me, which I now deduced was my heartbeat. 

My heartbeat sure sounds annoying.

I began to make out silhouettes staring back at me, no less than five different people with concern plastered on each of their faces. Jacob. Aunt Josephine. My mother and father, and Edward. It was my brother whose reaction shifted first, a smile spreading across his face. 

"Guys? I think he's waking up!"

They all turned to notice what must have been my fluttering eyelids, my parents embracing me as quickly as they could. My mom was the nearest to me, kissing my cheek and whispering Dylan into my ear as she wrapped herself around me. 

"What...happened?" I crocked, my voice like gravel. Even the mundane act of speaking hurt, like I haven't spoken in quite a while. But how can that be, just an hour ago I was...

Was I somewhere? Was it just a dream?

Josephine and my family moved outside my hospital room, perhaps to make some calls to the rest of my worried relatives, and that just left Jacob and Edward in here with me. Becoming more aware of where I was, I began to notice the extensive casts wrapped around my body, my left lag suspended slightly in the air. Daffodils were present on the counter beside me, though I couldn't turn my head enough to look at who had delivered them to me. 

"We thought you were a goner for sure." Jacob mentioned, relaxing on a simple chair beside me as I took more time to gaze at the bland surroundings. "That car hit you pretty bad. Everybody in school is talking about it."

"How long was I out?"

"A week." Edward interrupted, still smiling but with a hint of...reservation in his eyes. "You weren't looking good, we have to be honest, and what happened to Aaron..."

Aaron. Something pinged in my memory, something that was so close to being remembered yet surrounded by a mental block I just couldn't break through. It felt like I was speaking to him lately...and not just when I visited him at Positive Vibes, either. 

Was he a part of my dream too?

"Is he alright?"

"He...took a turn for the worst over the past week..."

My heart sank immediately when I heard the news. Everyone was paying particular attention to me, the idiot who got himself run over in the rush to catch a bus, and nobody seemed to spare a thought for my long-suffering older brother. It was hardly fair, and I began to resent myself deeply for it. Jacob turned on the TV hanging in the corner of the room, flicking through the channels until he came across one that was sports-exclusive. A game of football was taking place, and he relaxed ever deeper into his chair, content. 

Josephine marched back into the room, her face alight with excitement - and I had a feeling it wasn't because I was suddenly well again, either. 

"You'll never guess what happened!" She squealed, a note I had never heard her display before. All three of us exchanged glances towards each other, none of us any the wiser when it came to Josephine's news. 

"It's Aaron - he's been showing a dramatic improvement over the past 24 hours! His doctor is calling it unprecedented."

His doctor? Otker? Why do I feel like I don't trust him...

I automatically tried to sit upright, but a warning throb across my ribcage warned me that I was in no condition to do so. I edged back into my bed, irritated that I couldn't get up and walk around like the rest of my guests could. All of a sudden the focus was back towards Aaron - and that was the way I wanted it. The news was terrific, but from what I researched...this sort of reversal never happened. 

"Your parents are driving over there as we speak." She continued, turning towards me and suddenly losing the spark she had just a second before. "They wanted you to know that they will be back soon, and how happy they are to see that you're okay."

"Thanks." I responded just as monotonously. "Are you going to go and see him as well?"

"Well, I want to, but your parents wanted me - "

"Go and see Aaron. Tell him I'm sorry I couldn't go too, but that I'm delighted that he's okay!"

My aunt nodded, her mind concluded even before I spoke, and marched out of the room in the way only she could. I was reminded of just how feared she must have been around her workplace. Fashion was a cutthroat business, and she was a worthy captain. 

"You should go as well." I continued, ushering Edward to leave along with her while he had the chance. "I'll be fine, I was just stupid and not watching where I was going. Can you tell him that I'm delighted he's okay as well? Somehow I don't trust her."

He chuckled, grabbing his coat and wrapping it around himself in an instance. I noticed that his skin was returning to the same pale hue as ours, no longer strolling in the middle of the Mediterranean sun. 

"I sure will. I'll be back in a few hours!"

"Take your time!" I called as he rushed outside to catch up to out aunt. That just left Jacob and I inside the room, and there was no way I was going to be able to remove him from the picture, either. He was far too absorbed in the game to move an inch. 

"Jacob?"

He didn't even take his eyes off of the screen.

"Yes?"

"I think...I think I dreamed about a girl..."

26: Apterch Entytw - Xsi

-Sylvia- 

Dearest Grandfather,

I know you might be cross with me at the moment.. seeing as how I disappeared and took Guardian with me. Oh, and Josef as well. I also trust you've heard news spread of the gallant Knight roaming all of Rongholdst, Medea the Brave they call me. Though, I suppose that is another  thing I have taken without permission. That name. 

I have heard you have drastically reformed the order, and have also taken a name not belonging to you: Ardiangu Ightskn, is it? Fitting, very fitting. They refer to you now as 'Grand Enchanter Arlen' I am sure you love it, albeit secretly. It was about time you got out of that dusty old hut, Grandfather. The people will be good for you, and you for them. 

I have been to my place of beginnings. Seen the faces of those who birthed Sylvia. Though it broke my heart to do so without their knowledge. I think what is best for Rongholdst now is to believe that Sylvia the Nobody died back in those ruins. Not Medea the Brave. The people need to believe in something, they need to believe that there was someone safeguarding them from harm. This has to be Medea, from the Order who bows to the will of the Good-King of the Ndnesski line. Yes, let them believe that. But I digress, don't I, Master? My family did not recognize me at all, a simple illusion spell sought to that. They were heartbroken at the loss of their daughter, they loved her.. loved me. I am glad, however. My mother is with child again. It is a very good thing they got to it now, time is catching up to her. 

I repaid the merchant who told me of you. Funny man he is, did not even remember who Sylvia was. Or our little home. Bastard still had that damned mushroom cut. I hope a giant mistakes him as food this time, and succeeds. 

I suppose you wonder what it is I do now. Besides wandering and helping people with various things. I will tell you, it is the least I can do; Josef and I travel to the furthest reaches of the land. Exploring forgotten tombs and other abandoned places. We search for any texts and tomes for information on the Eamersdr. For we both know that one day, we may yet see them once more. Should that happen.. should another Ulric emerge.. we must stand vigilant and ready. The next time around, we will destroy any who are mad with power.

Josef is reading through some tomes we have found earlier today. He is such a busy-body it makes me exhausted just watching him. He makes for poor company as well, but he is brilliant. I will give him that. But do stay from telling him I said so, the man is already placing himself on a pedestal, I really do not wish to see him place himself any higher..

That, for now, is all I can tell you. And with that, I beseech you, Grandfather, offer me one boon? Be happy, and protect the people. That is the promise of the Guardian. 

 

'Are you still writing your letter to the Grand Enchanter?' Josef shook his head. I rolled my eyes, crossing out a line I was less than happy with. I had been re-writing the bloody thing for hours, my back ached and my eyes burned. The hand that held the quill had seemed to be frozen in it's writing position. I feared it might had never returned to normal. 

'Should you not be reading?' I retorted. 

'Yes, Medea. I have read through it all, and-like always, found nothing.' He stood and stretched, walking over to where I sat and ripped the letter from my hands. I protested, reaching for it, only to have him hold me at arms length as he read it through. 'Very formal.' he surmised, tossing it back to me. It fluttered gently into my hands. After him reading it, I felt I needed to read what it was he saw. Even though it was I who had written it. 

'Something wrong with formal?' I sniffed indignantly. Looking out the window and to the sky, I realized it was time. 'We should get going.' 

'Of course.' Josef agreed, packing his things. 'Sylvia?' he called as I marched out the door. I decided to take to tying my hair back tightly, adopting the style Medea had always used. I hummed in question turning to look back at Josef. 'I notice you made no mention of the Eamersdr you traveled with. Any specific reason why?' I looked at him a moment, studying his expressionless face. Was it concern he was showing? Genuine concern? No, he was next in line to become Grand Historian, and needed to chronicle everything. I laughed, as much as he hated to admit it, he was as easy to read- just as any open book. Though he was puzzling at first, once anyone spent enough time with him, they would have him sorted.

'That is no concern of yours, Josef. Come, we must be off.' I responded. Dylan was a name meant only for me, that was what I felt.. The fact of the matter was that I had not even known if he yet lived. He had mentioned he died in his world, and I sent him back. The only one remembering what we shared was me. Perhaps he was reborn, and Dylan was nothing but a memory.. that thought made me sad, but happy too.

The world would never truly know who he was either, or what it was that caused the world so much harm. By order of the King, the legacy of the Eamersdr was to remain a secret. Shared only by other world leaders, and the new Order Arlen led. Until we knew more about them, it was best thought they be kept in the shadows. And that was what we planned to bring to light. Josef and I, bringers of truth. They would write about us one day. Medea the Brave and Josef the Wise. But Dylan- he would remain mine.

Perhaps- in another life, he and I would one day meet again. Not as the Eamersdr and Medea; Just as us. Sylvia and Dylan.